BV  4211  .D28x 
Davies,  Samuel,  1723 
Substance  of  sermons 


1761. 


2d  ^  ^yiPi: 


V 


m. 

SUBSTANCE   OF   SERMOI^S 


^rrr 


SAMUEL  DA  VIES,  A.M., 

FOKMERLY  PEESIDENT  OF  NASSAU  HALL,  NEW  JEESEY. 


GIVEN    IN    HIS    OWN    WORDS. 


IN  ONE  VOLUME. 


BT   THE 


COMPILER  OF  THE  SAILOR'S   COMPANION. 


DESIGNED    FOR    GRATUITOUS    CIRCULATION. 


NEW    yOEK: 

M.   W.   DODD,    PUBLISHER, 

BRICK  CHURCH  CHAPEL,   OPPOSITE  THE   CITY  HALL. 

M.  DCC'C.'LI. 


^N^  *^    .^ 


'X    i\ 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  One  Thousand 

Eight  Hundred  and  Fifty-one, 

By  M,  W,  DODD, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  District  of 

New  York. 


Billin  Jt  Sruthtri,  St«r*otj/ptr». 


\ 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON   I. 


THE  DIVINE  AUTHORITY  AND  SUFFICIENCY  OF  THE 

CHRISTIAN  RELIGION. 

Page 
"Then  he  said,  I  pray  thee  therefore,  father,  that  thou  wouldst  send 
him  to  my  father's  house,  for  I  have  five  brethren,  that  he  may 
testify  unto  them,  lest  they  also  come  into  this  place  of  torment, 
Abraham  said  unto  him,  They  have  Moses  and  the  prophets ;  let 
them  hear  them.  And  he  said.  Nay,  father  Abraham,  but  if  one 
■went  unto  them  from  the  dead,  they  will  repent.  And  he  said 
unto  him,  If  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neither  will 
they  be  persuaded,  though  one  rose  from  the  dead." — Luke,  xvi. 
27-31 9 


SERMON   II. 

THE  METHOD  OF  SALVATION  THROUGH  JESUS  CHRIST 
EXPLAINED  AND  RECOMMENDED. 

"  For  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life." — John,  iii.  16 26 


SERMON    III. 
SINNERS  ENTREATED  TO  BE  RECONCILED  TO  GOD. 

"We  then  are  embassadors  for  Christ,  as  though  God  did  beseech 
you  by  us :  we  pray  you  in  Christ's  stead,  be  ye  reconciled  to 
God."— 2  Cor.  y.  20 86 


SERMON   IV. 

THE  NATURE  AND  UNIVERSALITY  OF  SPIRITUAL 

DEATH. 

**  Who  were  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins, . . .  even  when  we  were  dead 

in  sins." — Ephes.  il  1, 6 46 


4  CONTENTS. 

SERMON   V. 

THE  NATURE  AND  PROCESS  OF  SPIRITUAL  LIFE. 

Page 
"  But  God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his  great  love  wherewith  he  loved 
us,  even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins,  hath  quickened  us  together 
with  Christ"— Uphes.  ii.  4,  5 5t 

SERMON   VI. 

POOR  AND  CONTRITE  SPIRITS  THE  OBJECTS  OF 
THE  DIVINE  FAVOR. 

•'  To  this  man  will  I  look,  even  to  him  that  is  poor  and  of  a  contrite 

spirit,  and  tremble th  at  my  word." — Isaiah,  Ixvi.  2 68 

SERMON   Vn. 

'THE  NATURE  AND  DANGER  OF  MAKING  LIGHT  OF 
CHRIST  AND  HIS  SALVATION. 

"  But  they  made  light  of  it." — 3Iatt.  xxii.  5 75 

SERMON   VIII. 

THE  CONNECTION  BETWEEN  PRESENT  HOLINESS 
AND  FUTURE  FELICITY. 

"  FoUow  holiness ;  without  which  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord." — Heb. 

xii.  14 84 

SERMON    IX. 
THE  DIVINE  MERCY  TO  MOURNING  PENITENTS. 

"  I  have  surely  heard  Ephraim  bemoaning  himself  thus :  Thou  hast 
chastised  me,  and  I  was  chastised,  as  a  bullock  unaccustomed  to 
the  yoke :  turn  thou  me,  and  I  shall  be  turned ;  for  thou  art  the 
Lord  my  God.  Surely  after  that  I  was  turned,  I  repented ;  and 
after  that  I  was  instructed,  I  smote  upon  my  thigh :  I  was  ashamed, 
yea,  even  confounded,  because  1  did  bear  the  reproach  of  my  youth. 
Is  Ephraim  my  dear  son  ?  is  he  a  pleasant  cliild  ?  for  since  I  spoke 
against  him,  I  do  earnestly  remember  him  still :  therefore  my 
bowels  are  troubled  for  him :  I  will  surely  have  mercy  upon  him, 
saith  the  Lord." — Jer.  xxxi.  1 8-20 96 

SERMON   X.. 

THINGS  UNSEEN  TO  BE  PREFERRED  TO  THINGS 

SEEN. 

"  Wliile  we  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things 
which  are  not  seen  ;  for  the  things  wliicli  are  seen  are  temporal : 
but  the  thinj's  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal." — 2  Cor.  iv.  18. . . .    104 


CONTENTS.  <5 

SERMON  XI. 

CHRIST  PRECIOUS  TO  ALL  TRUE  BELIEVERS. 

Page 
"  Unto  you,  therefore,  which  believe,  He  is  precious." — 1  Peter,  ii.  7.     114 

SERMON  XII. 

THE  DANGER  OF  LUKEWARMNESS  IN  RELIGION. 

"  I  know  thy  works,  that  thou  art  neither  cold  nor  hot :  I  would  thou 
wert  cold  or  hot.  So  then,  because  thou  art  lukewarm,  and  nei- 
ther cold  nor  hot,  I  will  spew  thee  out  of  my  mouth." — Rev.  iii. 
15,  16 123 

SERMON   XIII. 

THE  GENERAL  RESURRECTION. 

*  The  hour  is  coming,  in  the  which  all  that  are  in  the  grave  shall  hear 
his  voice,  and  shall  come  forth  ;  they  that  have  done  good,  unto 
the  resurrection  of  life ;  and  they  that  have  done  evil,  unto  the 
resurrection  of  damnation." — John,  v.  28,  29 133 

SERMON   XIV. 
THE  UNIVERSAL  JUDGMENT 

"  And  the  times  of  this  ignorance  God  winked  at ;  but  now  command- 
eth  all  men  everywhere  to  repent :  because  he  hath  appointed  a 
day,  in  the  which  he  will  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  by 
that  man  whom  he  hath  ordained ;  whereof  he  hath  given  assu- 
rance unto  all  men,  in  that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead." — 
AcU,  xvii.  30,  31 ^ 142 

SERMON   XV. 

THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL. 

"  And  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her,  Martha,  Martha,  thou  art 
careful  and  troubled  about  many  things :  but  one  thing  is  need- 
ful :  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part,  which  shall  not  be 
taken  away  from  her." — Luke,  x.  41,  42 155 

SERMON  XVI. 

SAINTS  SAVED  WITH  DIFFICULTY,  AND  THE  CER- 
TAIN PERDITION  OF  SINNERS. 

"  And  if  the  righteous  scarcely  be  saved,  where  shall  the  ungodly  and 

the  sinner  appear  T — 1  Peter,  iv.  18 168 

SERMON   XVII. 

INDIFFERENCE  TO  LIFE  URGED  FROM  ITS  SHORT- 
NESS AND  VANITY. 

•*  But  this  I  say,  brethren,  the  time  is  short :  it  remaineth,  that  both  they 
tliat  have  wives  be  as  though  they  had  none ;  and  they  that  weep, 

1* 


6  CONTENTS. 

Pago 

as  though  they  wept  not ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they 
rejoiced  not ;  and  they  that  buy,  as  though  they  possessed  not ; 
and  they  that  use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  it :  for  the  fashion 
of  this  world  passeth  away." — 1  Cor.  vii.  29-31 176 

SERMON   XVllI. 

LIFE  AND  IMMORTALITY  REVEALED  IN  THE 
GOSPEL. 

*'  And  hath  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  by  the  gospel." — 

2  Tim.  I  10 187 

SERMON   XIX. 

A  SERMON  ON  THE  NEW  YEAR. 

"  This  year  thou  shalt  die." — Jer.  xxviii.  16 195 

SERMON   XX. 

RELIGION  THE  HIGHEST  WISDOM,  AND  SIN  THE 
GREATEST  MADNESS  AND  FOLLY. 

"  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom ;  a  good  under- 
standing have  all  they  that  do  his  commandments." — Psalm 
cxi.  10 209 

SERMON   XXL 

THE  DOOM  OF  THE  INCORRIGIBLE  SINNER. 

•'  He  that  being  often  reproved,  hardeneth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  be 

destroyed,  and  that  without  remedy." — Proverbs,  xxix.  1 219 

SERMON   XXII. 

THE  NATURE  OF  LOOKING  TO  CHRIST  OPENED 
AND  EXPLAINED. 

"  Look  unto  me,  and  be  ye  saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth;  for  I  am 

God,  and  there  is  none  else." — Isaiah,  xlv.  22 229 


SERMON   XXIII. 

THE  WONDERFUL  COMPASSION  OF  CHRIST  TO  THE 
GREATEST  SINNERS. 

**  O  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem  1  thou  that  kjllest  the  prophets,  and  stonest 
them  that  are  sent  unto  thee,  how  often  would  I  have  gathered 
thy  children  together,  cy«n  as  a  heu  gathereth  her  chickens  under 
her  wings,  and  ye  would  uoty^rr^MaiL  xxiii.  37 240 


CONTENTS.  \  f 

SERMON   XXIV. 

THE  NATURE  AND  AUTHOR  OF  REGENERATION. 

Page 
"  Marvel  not  that  I  said  unto  thee,  Ye  must  be  born  again." — John, 
.       iii.'J 249 

SERMON   XXV. 
THE  WAY  OF  SIN  HARD  AND  DIFFICULT. 
•'  It  is  hard  for  thee  to  kick  against  the  pricks." — Acts,  iv.  6 260 

SERMON   XXVI. 

THE  CHARACTERS  OF  THE  WHOLE  AND  SICK,  IN  A 

SPIRITUAL  SENSE,  CONSIDERED  AND 

CONTRASTED. 

"  But  when  Jesus  heard  that,  he  said  unto  them,  They  that  be  whole 

need  not  a  physician,  but  they  that  are  sick." — Matt.  ix.  12 268 

SERMON   XXVII. 

A  SACRAMENTAL  DISCOURSR 

"  Then  the  master  of  the  house  being  angry,"  &,c. — LuhCy  xiv.  21-24. .     281 

SERMON   XXVIII. 

THE  REJECTION  OF  GOSPEL  LIGHT  THE  CONDEM- 
NATION OF  MEN. 

"  And  this  is  the  condemnation,  that  light  is  come  into  the  world,  and 
men  loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  (or  for)  their  deeds 
were  evil." — John,  iii.  19 285 

SERMON  XXIX. 

A  NEW  YEAR'S  GIFT. 

'*  And  that,  knowing  the  time,  that  now  it  is  high  time  to  awake  out 
of  sleep :  for  now  is  our  salvation  nearer  than  when  we  believed." 
—Rom.  xiii.  11 *    296 


SERMON   XXX. 

A  TIME  OF  UNUSUAL  SICKNESS  AND  MORTALITY 
IMPROVED. 


^ 


**  0  Lord,  are  not  thine  eyes  upon  the  truth  ?  Thou  hast  stricken  them, 
but  they  have  not  grieved ;  thou  hast  consumed  them,  but  they 
have  refused  to  receive  correction.  They  have  made  their  faces 
harder  than  a  rock ;  they  have  refused  to  return." — Jeremiahj 
V.  3 806 


S  CONTENTS. 

SERMON   XXXI. 

THE  CERTAINTY  OF  DEATH;  A  FUNERAL  SERMON. 

Page 
"  0  wicked  man,  thou  shalt  surely  die." — JEzek.  xxxiii.  8 319 

SERMON  XXXII. 

EVIDENCES  OF  THE  WANT  OF  LOVE  TO  GOD. 

"  But  I  know  you,  that  you  have  not  the  love  of  God  in  you." — John, 

V.  42 332 

SERMON   XXXIII. 

THE  OBJECTS,  GROUNDS,  AND  EVIDENCES  OF  THE 
HOPE  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 

"  The  wicked  is  driven  away  in  his  wickedness ;  but  the  righteous 

hath  hope  in  his  death." — Frov.  xiv.  32 341 

SERMON   XXXIV. 

THE  GUILT  AND  DOOM  OF  IMPENITENT  HEARERS. 

•'  By  hearing  ye  shall  hear,  and  shall  not  understand,  and  seeing  ye 

shall  see,  and  shall  not  perceive." — 3fait.  xiii.  14 859 

SERMON   XXXV. 

THE  RELIGIOUS  IMPROVEMENT  OF  THE  LATE 
EARTHQUAKE. 

"The  foundations  of  the  earth  do  shake.  The  earth  is  utterly 
broken  down ;  the  earth  is  clean  dissolved  ;  the  earth  is  moved 
exceedingly.  The  earth  shall  reel  to  and  fro  like  a  drunkard, 
and  shall  be  removed  like  a  cottage ;  and  the  transgression . 
thereof  shall  lie  heavy  upon  it,  and  it  shall  fall  and  not  rise 
again." — Isaiah,  xxiv.  18-20 3*72 

EXTRACTS   FROM   A   SERMON 

Preached  at  I^assau  Hall,  Princeton,  May  28,  1761.  Occasioned 
by  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Davies,  A.  M.,  late  President  of 
the  College  of  New  Jersey.  By  Samuel  Finley,  D.  D.,  President 
of  said  College. 

•'  For  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself.  For 
whether  we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord ;  or  whether  we  die, 
we  die  unto  the  Lord ;  whether  we  live,  therefore,  or  die,  we 
are  the  Lord's." — Rom.  xiv.  7,8 386 


SERMONS. 


I. 

THE  DIVINE  AUTHORITY  AND  SUFFICIENCY  OF  THE 
CHRISTIAN  RELIGION. 

"  Then  he  said,  I  pray  thee  therefore,  father,  that  thou  wouklst  send  him  to 
my  father's  house,  for  I  have  live  brethren,  that  he  may  testify  unto  them, 
lest  they  also  come  into  this  place  of  torment.  Abraham  saith  unto  him, 
They  have  Moses  and  the  prophets  ;  let  them  hear  them.  And  he  said, 
Nay,  father  Abraham,  but  if  one  went  unto  them  from  the  dead,  they  will 
repent.  And  he  said  unto  him,  If  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets, 
neither  will  they  be  persuaded,  though  one  rose  from  the  dead." — Luke,  xvi. 
27-31. 

What  Micali  said  superstitiously,  when  lie  was  robbed 
of  Ms  idols,  Ye  have  taken  away  'my  gods,  and  ivhat  have  I 
more  f  may  be  truly  spoken  with  regard  to  the  religion  of 
Jesus.  If  that  be  taken  from  us,  what  have  we  more  ? 
The  generality  of  you  owe  all  your  hopes  of  a  glorious  im- 
mortality to  this  heaven-born  religion,  and  you  make  it  the 
rule  of  your  faith  and  practice,  confident  that  in  so  doing 
you  please  God. 

But  what  if  after  all  you  should  be  mistaken  ?  What  if 
the  religion  of  Jesus  should  be  an  imposture  ?  I  know  you 
are  struck  with  horror  at  the  thought,  and  perhaps  alarmed 
at  my  making  so  shocking  a  supposition.  But  this  suspicion, 
horrid  as  it  is,  has  probably  been  suggested  to  you  at  times 
by  infernal  agency ;  this  suspicion  may  at  times  have  risen 
in  your  minds  in  their  wanton  and  licentious  excursions,  or 
from  false  alarms  of  a  melancholy  and  timorous  imagination : 
and  if  this  suspicion  has  never  been  raised  in  you  by  the 
sophistical  conversation  of  loose  wits  and  affGcted  rational- 


1&  THE  DIVINE  AUTHORITY  AND  SUFFICIENCY 

ists,  it  has  been  owing  to  yonr  happy  retirement  from  the 
polite  world,  where  infidelity  makes  extensive  conquests, 
under  the  specious  name  of  deism.  Since  therefore  you  are 
subject  to  an  assault  from  such  a  suspicion,  when  you  may 
not  be  armed  ready  to  repel  it,  let  me  this  day  start  it  from 
its  ambush,  that  I  may  try  the  force  of  a  few  arguments 
upon  it,  and  furnish  you  with  weapons  to  conquer  it. 

Let  me  also  tell  you,  that  that  faith  in  the  Christian  religion 
which  proceeds  from  insufficient  or  bad  principles,  is  but 
little  better  than  infidelity.  If  you  believe  the  Christian 
religion  to  be  divine,  because  you  hardly  care  whether  it  be 
true  or  false,  being  utterly  unconcerned  about  religion  in 
any  shape,  and  therefore  never  examining  the  matter ;  if 
you  believe  it  true,  because  you  have  been  educated  in  it ; 
because  your  parents  or  ministers  have  told  you  so ;  or 
because  it  is  the  religion  of  your  country  ;  if  these  are  the 
only  grounds  of  your  faith,  it  is  not  such  a  faith  as  consti- 
tutes you  true  Christians  ;  for  upon  the  very  same  grounds 
you  would  have  been  Mahometans  in  Turkey,  disciples  of 
Confucius  in  China,  or  worshipers  of  the  devil  among  the 
Indians,  if  it  had  been  your  unhappy  lot  to  be  born  in  those 
countries ;  for  a  Mahometan,  or  a  Chinese,  or  an  Indian,  can 
assign  these  grounds  for  his  faith.  Surely,  I  need  not  tell 
you,  that  the  grounds  of  a  mistaken  belief  in  an  imposture, 
are  not  a  sufficient  foundation  for  a  saving  faith  in  a  divine 
revelation. 

My  text  is  a  parabolical  dialogue  between  Abraham  and 
one  of  his  wretched  posterity,  once  rioting  in  the  luxuries 
of  high  life,  but  now  tormented  in  infernal  flames.  We 
read  of  his  brethren  in  his  father's  house.  Among  these 
probably  his  estate  was  divided  upon  his  decease;  from 
w^hence  Ave  may  infer  that  he  had  no  children ;  for  had  he 
had  any,  it  would  have  been  more  natural  to  represent  him 
as  solicitous  for  their  reformation  by  a  messenger  from  the 
dead,  than  for  that  of  his  brothers.  He  seems,  therefore, 
like  some  of  our  unhappy  modern  rakes,  just  to  have  come 
to  his  estate,  and  to  have  abandoned  himself  to  such  a 
course  of  debaucheries  as  soon  shattered  his  constitution, 
and  brought  him  down  to  the  grave,  and  alas !  to  hell,  in 
the  bloom  of  life,  when  they  were  far  from  his  thoughts. 
May  this  be  a  warning  to  all  of  his  age  and  circumstances. 
Whether,  from  some  remaining  aftection  to  his  brethren, 
or  (which  is  more  likely)  from  a  fear  that  they  who  had 


OF   THE   CHRISTIAN   RELIGIOK.  11 

shared  with  him  in  sin  would  increase  his  torment,  should 
they  descend  to  him  in  the  infernal  prison,  he  is  solicitous 
that  Lazarus  might  be  sent  as  an  apostle  from  the  dead  to 
warn  them.  His  petition  is  to  this  purpose :  "  Since  no 
request  in  my  own  favour  can  be  granted  ;  since  I  cannot 
obta^in  the  poor  favour  of  a  drop  of  water  to  cool  my  tongue, 
let  me  at  least  make  one  request  in  behalf  of  those  that  are 
yet  in  the  land  of  hope,  and  not  beyond  the  reach  of  mercy. 
in  my  father's  house  I  have  five  brethren,  gay,  thoughtless, 
young  creatures,  who  are  now  rioting  in  those  riches  I  was 
forced  to  leave,  who  interred  my  mouldering  corpse  in  state, 
little  apprehensive  of  the  doom  of  my  immortal  part ;  who 
are  now  treading  the  same  enchanting  paths  of  pleasure  I 
walked  in ;  and  will,  unless  reclaimed,  soon  descend,  like 
me,  thoughtless  and  unprepared,  into  those  doleful  regions : 
I  therefore  pra}^,  that  thou  wouldst  send  Lazarus  to  alarm 
them  in  their  wild  career,  with  an  account  of  my  dreadful 
doom,  and  inform  them  of  the  reality  and  importance  of 
everlasting  happiness  and  misery,  that  they  may  reform, 
and  so  avoid  this  place  of  torment  whence  I  can  never 
escape." 

Abraham's  answer  maybe  thus  paraphrased:  "If  thy 
brethren  perish,  it  will  not  be  for  want  of  means ;  they  enjoy 
the  sacred  scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament,  written  by 
Moses  and  the  'pro-phets  ;  and  these  are  sufficient  to  inform 
them  of  the  necessary  truths  to  regulate  their  practice,  and 
particularly  to  warn  them  of  everlasting  punishment !  Let 
them,  therefore,  hear  and  regard,  study  and  obey,  those  wri- 
tings ;  for  they  need  no  further  means  for  their  salvation." 

To  this  the  wretched  creature  replies,  "Nay,  father 
Abraham,  these  means  will  not  avail ;  I  enjoyed  them  all ; 
and  here  I  am,  a  lost  soul ;  and  I  am  afraid  they  will  have 
as  little  effect  upon  them  as  they  had  upon  me.  These 
means  are  common  and  familiar,  and  therefore  disregarded. 
But  if  one  arose  from  the  dead,  if  an  apostle  from  the 
invisible  world  was  sent  to  them,  to  declare  as  an  eye-wit- 
ness the  great  things  he  has  seen,  surely  they  will  repent. 
The  novelty  and  the  terror  of  the  apparition  would  alarm 
them.  Their  senses  would  be  struck  with  so  unusual  a 
messenger,  and  they  would  be  convinced  of  the  reality  of 
eternal  things ;  therefore  I  must  renew  my  request ;  send 
Lazarus  to  them  in  all  the  pomp  of  heavenly  splendor;. 
Lazarus  whom  they  once  knew  in  so  abject  a  condition,  and 


12  THE   DIVINE  AUTHORITY   AND  SUFFICIENCY 

wliom  they  will  therefore  the  more  regard,  when  they  see 
him  appear  in  all  his  present  glory." 

Thus  the  miserable  creature  pleads,  but,  alas  !  he  pleads 
in  vain. 

Abraham  continues  inexorable,  and  gives  a  very  good 
reason  for  his  denial :  "  K  they  pay  no  regard  to  the  wri- 
tings of  Moses  and  the  prophets^  the  standing  revelation  God 
has  left  in  his  church,  it  would  be  to  no  purpose  to  give 
them  another ;  they  would  not  be  persuaded  though  one 
rose  from  the  dead :  the  same  disposition  that  renders  them 
deaf  to  such  messengers  as  Moses  and  the  prophets,  would 
also  render  them  impersuasible  by  a  messenger  from  the 
dead.  Such  a  one  might  strike  them  with  a  panic,  but  it 
would  soon  be  over,  and  then  they  would  return  to  their 
usual  round  of  pleasures ;  they  would  presently  think  the 
apparition  was  the  creature  of  their  own  imagination,  or 
some  unaccountable  illusion  of  their  senses.  If  one  arose 
from  the  dead,  he  could  but  declare  the  same  things  substan- 
tially with  Moses  and  the  prophets  ;  and  he  could  not  speak 
with  greater  authority,  or  give  better  credentials  than  they ; 
and  therefore  they  who  are  not  benefited  by  these  standing 
means  must  be  given  up  as  desperate ;  and  God,  for  very 
good  reasons,  will  not  multiply  new  revelations  to  them." 

This  answer  of  Abraham  was  exemplified  when  another 
Lazarus  was  raised  from  the  dead  in  the_very  sight  of  the 
Jews,  and  Christ  burst  the  bands  of  death,  and  gave  them 
incontestable  evidences  of  his  resurrection ;  and  yet  after  all 
they  were  not  persuaded,  but  persisted  in  invincible  infi- 
delity. 

This  parable  was  spoken  before  any  part  of  the  New 
Testament  was  written,  and  added  to  the  sacred  canon; 
and  if  it  might  be  then  asserted,  that  the  standing  revela- 
tion of  God's  will  was  sufficient,  and  that  it  was  needless  to 
demand  further,  then  much  more  may  it  be  asserted  now, 
when  the  canon  of  the  Scriptures  is  completed,  and  we  have 
received  so  much  additional  light  from  the  New  Testament. 
We  have  not  only  Moses  and  the  prophets,  but  we  have  also 
Christ,  who  is  a  messenger  from  the  dead,  and  his  apostles ; 
and  therefore,  surely,  "  if  we  do  not  hear  them,  neither  will 
we  be  persuaded,  though  one  rose  from  the  dead."  The 
gospel  is  the  last  eftbrt  of  the  grace  of  God  with  a  guilty 
world ;  and  if  this  has  no  effect  upon  us,  our  disease  is  incu- 
rable that  refuses  to  be  healed. 


OF  THE   CHRISTIAN  RELIGION".  13 

I  cannot  insist  upon  all  the  important  truths  contained  in 
this  copious  text,  but  only  design, 

I.  To  show  the  sufficiency  of  the  standing  revelation  of 
God's  will  in  the  Scriptures,  to  bring  men  to  repentance  ; 
and, 

II.  To  expose  the  vanity  and  unreasonableness  of  the  ob- 
.jections  against  this  revelation,  and  of  demanding  another. 

I.  I  am  to  show  the  sufficiency  of  the  standing  revelation 
in  the  Scriptures,  to  bring  men  to  repentance. 

If  the  Scriptures  give  us  sufficient  instructions  in  matters 
of  faith,  and  sufficient  directions  in  matters  of  practice,  if 
they  are  attended  with  sufficient  evidences  for  our  faith,  and 
produce  sufficient  excitements  to  influence  our  practice,  then 
they  contain  a  sufficient  revelation ;  for  it  is  for  these  pur- 
poses we  need  a  revelation,  and  a  revelation  that  answers 
these  purposes  has  the  directest  tendency  to  make  us  truly 
religious,  and  bring  us  to  a  happy  immortality.  But  that 
the  revelation  in  the  Scriptures  (particularly  in  the  New 
Testament,  which  I  shall  more  immediately  consider  as 
being  the  immediate  foundation  of  Christianity)  is  sufficient 
for  these  purposes,  mil  be  -evident  from  an  induction  of 
particulars. 

1.  The  Scriptures  give  us  sufficient  instructions  what  we 
should  believe,  or  are  a  sufficient  rule  of  faith. 

Eeligion  cannot  subsist  without  right  notions  of  God  and 
divine  things ;  and  entire  ignorance  or  mistakes  in  its  fun- 
damental articles  must  be  destructive  of  its  nature ;  and  . 
therefore  a  divine  revelation  must  be  a  collection  of  rays  of  V<^ 
light,  a  system  of  divine  knowledge ;  and  such  we  find  the  /^ 
Christian   revelation    to   be,  as   contained  in  the   sacred 
writings. 

In  the  Scriptures  we  have  the  clearest  and  most  majestic  ^ 
account  of  the  nature  and  perfections  of  the  Deity,  and  of 
his  being  the  Creator,  Euler,  and  Benefactor  of  the  universe ; 
to  whom,  therefore,  all  reasonable  beings  are  under  infinite 
obligations.  In  the  Scriptures  we  have  an  account  of  the 
present  state  of  human  nature,  as  degenerate,  and  a  more 
rational  and  easy  account  of  its  apostasy,  than  could  ever 
be  given  by  the  light  of  nature.  In  the  Scriptures,  too,  we 
have  the  welcome  account  of  a  method  of  recovery  from  the 
ruins  of  our  apostasy,  through  the  mediation  of  the  Son  of 
God  ;  there  we  have  the  assurance  which  we  could  find  no- 
where else,  that  God  is  reconcilable,  and  willing  to  pardon 

2 


14  THE   DIVINE   AUTHORITY   AND   SUFFICIENCY 

penitents  npon  the  acconnt  of  tlie  obedience  and  suiFerings 
of  Christ.  There  all  our  anxious  inquiries,  Wherewith  shall 
I  come  before  the  Lord ;  or  how  myself  before  the  onost  high 
God  f  are  satisfactorily  answered ;  and  there  the  agonizing 
conscience  can  obtain  relief,  which  might  have  sought  in 
vain  among  all  the  other  religions  in  the  world. 

In  the  Scriptures  also,  eternity  and  the  invisible  worlds  are 
laid  open  to  our  view,  and  "life  and  immortality  are 
brought  to  light  by  the  gospel."  There  we  are  assured  of 
the  state  of  future  rewards  and  punishments,  according  to 
our  conduct  in  this  state  of  probation ;  and  the  nature,  per- 
fection, and  duration  of  the  happiness  and  misery  are 
described  with  as  much  accuracy  as  are  necessary  to 
eno^a<2fe  us  to  seek  the  one  and  shun  the  other. 

2.  The  Holy  Scriptures  give  us  complete  directions  in 
matters  of  practice,  or  are  a  sufficient  rule  of  life.  A  divine 
revelation  must  not  be  calculated  merely  to  amuse  us,  and 
gi'atify  our  curiosity  with  sublime  and  refined  notions  and 
speculations,  but  adapted  to  direct  and  regulate  our  practice, 
and  render  us  better  as  well  as  wiser. 

Accordingly,  the  sacred  writings  give  us  a  complete  sj^s- 
tem  of  practical  religion  and  morality.  There,  not  only  all 
the  duties  of  natural  religion  are  inculcated,  but  several 
important  duties,  as  love  to  our  enemies,  humility,  &c.,  are 
clearly  discovered,  which  the  feeble  light  of  reason  in  the 
heathen  moralists  did  either  not  perceive  at  all,  or  but  very 
faintly.  In  short,  there  we  are  informed  of  our  duties 
towards  God,  towards  our  neighbors,  and  towards  our- 
selves. The  Scriptures  are  full  of  particular  injunctions  and 
directions  to  particular  duties,  lest  we  should  not  be  saga- 
cious enough  to  infer  them  from  general  rules ;  and  some- 
times all  these  duties  are  summed  up  in  some  short  maxim 
or  general  rule,  which  we  may  easily  remember,  and 
always  carry  about  with  us.  Such  a  noble  summary  is 
that  which  Christ  has  given  us  of  the  whole  moral  law : 
"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  Avith  all  thy  lieai-t,  &c., 
and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself;"  or  that  all-comprehending 
rule  of  our  conduct  towards  one  another :  "  Whatsoever  ye 
would  that  men  should  do  unto  3'ou,  do  ye  the  same  unto 
them."  And  by  whom  was  this  vast  treasure  of  knowledga 
laid  up  to  enrich  the  world  ?  by  Avhom  were  these  match- 
less writings  composed,  which  furnish  us  with  a  system  of 
religion  and  morality  so  much  more  plain,  so  much  more 


OF   THE   CHRISTIAN   RELIGION.  15 

perfect,  than  all  ttie  famous  sages  of  antiquity  could  frame  ? 
Why,  to  our  astonishment,  they  were  composed  by  a  com- 
pany of  fishermen,  or  persons  not  much  superior  ;  by  per- 
sons generally  without  any  liberal  education ;  persons  who 
had  not  devoted  their  lives  to  intellectual  improvement; 
persons  of  no  extraordinary  natural  parts,  and  who  had 
never  traveled,  like  the  ancient  philosophers,  to  gather  up 
fragments  of  knowledge  in  different  countries,  but  who  lived 
in  Judea,  a  country  where  learning  was  but  little  cultivated, 
in  comparison  of  Greece  and  Rome.  These  were  the  most 
accomplished  teachers  of  mankind  that  ever  appeared  in  the 
world.  And  can  this  be  accounted  for,  without  acknowl- 
edging their  inspiration  from  heaven  ?  If  human  reason 
could  have  made  such  discoveries,  surely  it  would  have 
made  them  by  those  in  whom  it  was  improved  to  the 
greatest  perfection,  and  not  by  a  company  of  ignorant 
mechanics. 

8.  The  Scriptures  are  attended  with  sufficient  evidences 
of  their  truth  and  divinity. 

It  is  certain  that  as  Grod  can  accept  no  worship  than 
rational  from  reasonable  creatures,  he  cannot  require  us  to 
believe  a  revelation  to  be  divine  without  sufficient  reason ; 
and  therefore  when  he  gives  us  a  revelation,  he  will  attest 
it  with  such  evidences  as  will  be  a  sufficient  foundation  of 
our  belief 

Accordingly,  the  Scriptures  are  attested  with  all  the  evi- 
dence, intrinsic  and  extrinsic,  which  we  can  reasonably  desire, 
and  with  all  the  evidences  the  nature  of  the  thing  Avill  admit. 

As  for  intrinsic  evidences,  many  might  be  mentioned ; 
but  I  must  at  present  confine  myself  in  proper  limits.  I 
shall  resume  the  one  I  have  already  hinted  at,  namely,  that 
the  religion  of  the  Bible  has  the  directest  tendency  to  pro- 
mote true  piety  and  solid  virtue  in  the  world :  it  is  such  a 
religion  as  becomes  a  God  to  reveal ;  such  a  religion  as  we 
might  expect  fi*om  him  in  case  he  instituted  any  ;  a  religion 
intended  and  adapted  to  regulate  self-love,  and  to  diffuse  the 
love  of  God  and  man  through  the  world  ;  the  only  generous 
principles  and  vigorous  springs  of  a  suitable  conduct  to- 
wards God,  towards  one  another,  and  towards  ourselves ;  a 
religion  productive  of  every  humane,  social,  and  divine  vir- 
tue, and  directly  calculated  to  banish  all  sin  out  of  the 
world  ;  to  'transform  impiety  into  devotion  ;  injustice  and 
oppression   into  equity  and  universal  benevolence ;   and 


16  THE   DIVINE  AUTHOEITY   AND  SUFFICIENCY 

sensuality  into  sobriety — a  religion  infinitely  preferable  to 
any  that  has  been  contrived  by  the  wisest  and  best  of  mor- 
tals. And  whence  do  ye  think  could  this  godlike  religion 
proceed?  Does  not  its  nature  prove  its  origin  divine? 
Does  it  not  evidently  bear  the  lineaments  of  its  heavenly 
Parent?  can  you  once  imagine  that  such  a  pure,  such  a 
holy,  such  a  perfect  system,  could  be  the  contrivance  of 
wicked,  infernal  spirits,  of  selfish,  artful  priests,  or  politi- 
cians, or  of  a  parcel  of  daring  impostors,  or  wild  enthusiasts  ? 
If  you  can  believe  this,  you  may  also  believe  that  light  is 
the  product  of  darkness,  virtue  of  vice,  good  of  evil. 

Another  intrinsic  evidence  is  that  of  prophecy.  Those 
future  events  which  are  contingent,  or  which  shall  be  ac- 
complished by  causes  that  do  not  now  exist  or  appear,  can- 
not be  certainly  foreknown  or  foretold  by  man,  as  we  find 
by  our  own  experience.  Such  objects  fall  within  the  com- 
pass of  omniscience  only  ;  and  therefore  when  short-sighted 
mortals  are  enabled  to  predict  such  events  many  years,  and 
even  ages,  before  they  happen,  it  is  a  certain  evidence  that 
they  are  let  into  the  secrets  of  heaven,  and  that  God  commu- 
nicates to  them  a  knowledge  which  cannot  be  acquired  by 
the  most  sagacious  human  mind ;  and  this  is  an  evidence 
that  the  persons  thus  divinely  taught  are  the  messengers  of 
God,  to  declare  his  will  to  the  world. 

Now  there  are  numberless  instances  of  such  prophecies 
in  the  sacred  writings.  Thus  a  prophet  foretold  the 
destruction  of  Jeroboam's  altar  by  the  good  Josiah,  many 
ages  before.  1  Kings,  xiji.  2.  Cyrus  was  foretold  by  name 
as  the  restorer  of  the  Jews  from  Babylon,  to  rebuild  their 
temple  and  city,  about  a  hundred  years  before  he  was 
born.  Isaiah,  xlv.  1,  &c.  But  the  most  remarkable  proph- 
ecies of  the  Old  Testament  are  those  relating  to  the 
Messiah  ;  which  are  so  numerous  and  full,  that  they  might 
serve  for  materials  of  his  history.  Gen.  xlix.  10 ;  Hag.  ii.  7 ; 
Mai.  iii.  2 ;  Dan.  ix.  24,  &c. 

The  history  of  the  life  of  Jesus  and  his  apostles  is  one 
continued  series  of  miracles.  Sight  was  restored  to  the 
blind,  the  deaf  were  enabled  to  hear,  the  lame  to  walk,  the 
maimed  furnished  with  new-created  limbs,  the  sick  healed, 
the  rage  of  winds  and  seas  controlled,  yea,  the  dead  were 
raised,  and  all  this  with  an  air  of  sovereignty,  such  as  be- 
came a  God. 

Another  extrinsic  evidence  of  the  truth  of  Christianity  is 


OF  THE   CHRISTIAN   RELIGION.  17 

its  extensive  propagation  through  the  world  in  the  most 
unpromising  circumstances. 

The  only  religion,  besides  the  Christian,  which  has  had 
any  very  considerable  spread  in  the  world  is  that  of  Ma- 
homet ;  but  we  may  easily  account  for  this,  without  sup- 
posing it  divine,  from  its  nature,  as  indulging  the  lusts  of 
men ;  and  especially  from  the  manner  of  its  propagation, 
not  by  the  force  of  evidence,  but  by  the  force  of  arms. 
But  the  circumstances  of  the  propagation  of  Christianity 
were  quite  otherwise,  whether  we  consider  its  contrariety 
to  the  corruptions,  prejudices,  and  interests  of  men ;  the 
easiness  of  detecting  it,  had  it  been  false  ;  the  violent  oppo- 
sition it  met  with  from  all  the  powers  of  the  earth  ;  the  in- 
struments of  its  propagation ;  or  the  measures  they  took 
for  that  purpose.  Christianity  was  directly  contrary  to  the 
corruptions,  prejudices,  and  interests  of  mankind.  It 
grants  no  indulgence  to  the  corrupt  propensions  of  a 
degenerate  world,  but  requires  that  universal  holiness  of 
heart  and  life  which,  as  we  find  by  daily  observation,  is  so 
ungrateful  to  them,  and  which  is  the  principal  reason  that 
the  religion  of  Jesus  meets  "with  so  much  contempt  and 
opposition  in  every  age. 

When  Christianity  was  first  propagated,  all  nations  had 
been  educated  in  some  other  religion :  the  Jews  were 
attached  to  Moses,  and  the  Gentiles  to  their  various  sys- 
tems of  heathenism,  and  were  all  of  them  very  zealous  for 
their  own  religion ;  but  Christianity  proposed  a  new  scheme, 
and  could  not  take  place  without  antiquating  or  exploring 
all  other  religions  ;  and  therefore  it  was  contrary  to  'the  in- 
veterate prejudices  of  all  mankind,  and  could  never  have 
been  so  generally  received,  if  it  had  not  brought  with  it  the 
most  evident  credentials.  There  was  a  powerful  party  in 
every  nation,^  and  they  would  exert  themselves  to  prevent 
the  spread  of  an  innovation  so  dangerous  to  their  interest, 
which  we  find  by  all  histories  of  those  times  they  actually 
did.  And  yet  the  despised  religion  of  Jesus  triumphed  over 
their  opposition,  and  maintained  its  credit  in  spite  of  all 
their  endeavors  to  detect  it  as  an  imposture;  and  this 
proves  that  it  was  not  an  imposture  ;  for,  in  the  next  place, 
it  was  easy  to  have  detected  Christianity  as  an  imposture, 
nay,  it  was  impossible  it  should  not  have  been  detected,  if 
it  had  been  such  ;  for  the  great  facts  upon  which  the  evi- 
dence of  it  rested  were  said  to  be  obvious  and  public,  done 

2* 


18  THE  DIVINE  AUTHORITY   AND  SUlFFICIENCY 

before  thousands  and  in  all  countries.  Thousands  must 
know  whether  Christ  had  fed  many  with  provisions  only 
sufiicient  for  a  few ;  whether  Lazarus  was  raised  from  the 
dead;  whether  the  Apostles  spoke  with  tongues  to  the 
various  nations  among  whom  they  endeavored  to  propagate 
their  religion.  These  things  and  many  others,  upon  which 
the  evidence  of  Christianity  depends,  were  public  in  their 
own  nature;  and  therefore,  if  they  had  not  been  matters 
of  fact,  the  cheat  must  have  been  unavoidably  detected. 

Further, — Christianity  met  with  the  most  strenuous  op- 
position from  all  the  powers  of  the  earth.  The  Jews  were 
implacable  enemies,  and  as  they  lived  on  the  spot  where 
its  miraculous  attestations  were  said  to  be  given,  it  was  in 
their  power  to  have  crushed  it  in  its  birth,  had  it  not  been 
attended  with  such  invincible  evidence.  All  the  power  of 
the  Eoman  empire  was  also  exerted  for  its  extirpation; 
and  its  propagators  could  expect  no  profit  or  pleasure  by 
it,  but  were  assured,  from  daily  experience  and  from  the 
predictions  of  their  Master,  that  they  should  meet  with 
shame,  persecution,  and  death  itself;  and  in  the  next 
world  they  could  expect  nothing  but  eternal  damnation  if 
they  were  impostors;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  all  these  dis- 
couragements they  persisted  in  their  testimonies,  though 
they  might  have  secured  their  lives  and  helped  then- 
fortunes  by  retracting  it : — nay,  their  testimony  prevailed, 
in  spite  of  all  opposition ;  multitudes  in  all  nations  then 
known  embraced  the  faith,  though  they  expected  tortures 
and  death  for  it ;  and  in  a  few  centuries  the  Koman  empire 
submitted  to  the  religion  of  a  crucified  Jesus. 

And  who  were  those  mighty  heroes  that  then  triumphed 
over  the  world  ? 

Why,  to  our  surprise,  the  instruments  of  the  propagation 
of  Christianity  were  a  company  of  poor  mechanics,  publi- 
cans, tentmakers,  and  fishermen,  from  the  d^pised  nation 
of  the  Jews ! 

And  by  what  strange  powers  or  arts  did  they  make 
these  extensive  conquests  ? 

The  measures  they  took  were  a  plain  declaration  of  their 
religion ;  and  they  wrought  miracles  for  its  confirmation. 
They  did  not  use  the  power  of  the  sword,  or  secular  terrors, 
or  bribery ;  they  were  without  learning,  without  the  arts  of 
reasoning  and  persuasion ;  and  without  all  the  usual  arti- 
fice of  seducers  to  gain  credit  to  their  imposture. 


OF  THE   CHRISTIAN   RELIGION.  19 

Here  I  cannot  but,take  particular  notice  of  that  matchless 
simplicity  that  appears  in  the  history  of  Christ  and  his 
apostles.  The  evangelists  write  in  that  artless,  calm,  and 
unguarded  manner,  which  is  natural  to  persons  confident  of 
the  undeniable  truth  of  what  they  assert ;  they  do  not  write 
with  that  scrupulous  caution  which  would  argue  any  fear 
that  they  might  be  confuted.  They  simply  relate  the  naked 
facts,  and  leave  them  to  stand  upon  their  own  evidence. 
They  relate  the  most  amazing,  the  most  moving  things, 
with  the  most  cool  serenity — without  any  passionate  excla- 
mations and  warm  reflections.  For  example,  they  relate 
the  most  astonishing  miracles,  as  the  resurrection  of  Lazarus, 
in  the  most  simple,  and,  as  it  were,  careless  manner,  without 
breaking  out  and  celebrating  the  divine  power  of  Christ. 
In  the  same  manner  they  relate  the  most  tragical  circum- 
stances of  his  condemnation  and  death,  calmly  mentioning 
matter  of  fact,  without  any  invectives  against  the  Jews, 
without  any  high  eulogies  upon  Christ's  innocence,  without 
any  rapturous  celebration  of  his  grace  in  suffering  all  these 
things  for  sinners,  and  without  any  tender  lamentations 
over  their  deceased  Master.  It  is  impossible  for  a  heart  so 
deeply  impressed  with  such  things,  as  theirs  undoubtedly 
were,  to  retain  this  dispassionate  serenity,  unless  laid  under 
supernatural  restraints ;  and  there  appears  very  good  rea- 
sons for  this  restraint  upon  them,  viz.,  that  the  gospel  history 
might  carry  intrinsic  evidences  of  its  simphcity  and  artless 
impartiality ;  and  that  it  might  appear  adapted  to  convince 
the  judgments  of  men,  and  not  merely  to  raise  their  passions. 
In  this  respect,  the  gospel  history  is  distinguished  from  all 
histories  in  the  world :  and  can  we  think  so  plain,  so  undis- 
guised, so  artless  a  composure,  the  contrivance  of  designing 
impostors  ?  Would  not  a  consciousness  that  they  might 
be  detected  keep  them  more  upon  their  guard,  and  make 
them  more  ready  to  anticipate  and  confine  objections,  and 
take  every  artifice  to  recommend  their  cause,  and  prepossess 
the  reader  in  its  favor  ? 

Thus  I  have  hinted  at  a  few  things  among  the  many  that 
might  be  mentioned  to  prove  the  divinity  of  the  religion  of 
Jesus,  and  its  sufiiciency  to  bring  men  to  repentance  and 
salvation.  And  if  it  be  so,  why  should  it  be  rejected,  or 
another  sought  ?     This  reminds  me  that  I  promised, 

n.  To  expose  the  vanity  and  unreasonableness  of  the 
objections  against  the  Christian  religion,  or  of  demanding 


20  THE   DIVINE  AUTHORITY  AND  SUFFICIENCY 

another,  &c.  What  can  our  ingenious  infidels  offer  against 
what  has  been  said  ?  It  rnust  be  something  very  weighty 
indeed  to  preponderate  all  this  evidence.  A  laugh,  or  a 
sneer,  a  pert  Avitticism,  declaiming  against  priestcraft  and 
the  prejudices  of  education,  artful  evasions,  and  shallow 
sophisms,  the  usual  arguments  of  our  pretended  freethink- 
ers, these  will  not  suffice  to  banter  us  out  of  oar  joyful  con- 
fidence of  the  divinity  of  Jesus ;  and  I  may  add,  these  will 
not  suffice  to  indemnify  them.  Nothing  will  be  sufficient 
for  this,  but  demonstration.  It  lies  upon  them  to  prove  the 
Christian  religion  to  be  certainly  false ;  otherwise,  unless 
they  are  hardened  to  a  prodigy,  they  must  be  racked  with 
anxious  fears  lest  they  should  find  1 1  true  to  their  cost,  and 
lest  that  dismal  threatening  should  stand  against  them : 
"  He  that  belie veth  not,  shall  be  damned."  What  mighty 
objections,  then,  have  they ^ to  offer?  Will  they  say  that 
the  Christian  religion  contains  mysterious  doctrines  which 
they  cannot  comprehend,  which  seem  to  them  unaccount- 
able— as  that  of  the  trinity,  the  incarnation,  and  satisfac- 
tion of  Christ,  (Sec?  But  will  they  advance  their  under- 
standing to  be  the  universal  standard  of  truth  ?  Will  they 
pretend  to  comprehend  the  infinite  God  in  their  finite  minds  ? 
then  let  them  go,  and  measure  the  heavens  Avith  a  span, 
and  comprehend  the  ocean  in  the  hollow  of  their  -hand. 
Will  they  pretend  to  understand  the  divine  nature,  when 
they  cannot  understand  their  own  ?  when  they  cannot  ac- 
count for  or  explain  the  union  betwixt  their  own  souls  and 
bodies?  Will  they  reject  mysteries  in  Christianity  when 
they  must  own  them  in  every  thing  else  ?  Let  them  first 
solve  all  the  phenomena  in  nature ;  let  them  give  us  a 
rational  theory  of  the  infinite  divisibility  of  a  piece  of  finite 
matter ;  let  them  account  for  the  seemingly  magical  opera- 
tion of  the  loadstone ;  the  circulation  of  the  blood  upwards 
as  well  as  downwards,  contrary  to  all  the  laws  of  motion ; 
let  them  tell  us,  how  spirits  can  receive  ideas  from  material 
organs;  how  they  hear  and  see,  &c.  Let  them  give  us 
intelligible  theories  of  these  things,  and  then  they  ma}^, 
with  something  of  a  better  grace,  set  up  for  critics  upon 
God  and  his  ways ;  but,  while  they  are  mysteries  to  them- 
selves, Avhile  every  particle  of  matter  baffles  their  under- 
standings, it  is  the  most  impious  intellectual  pride  to  reject 
Christianity  upon  the  account  of  its  mysteries,  and  to  set 
up  themselves  as  the  supreme  judges  of  truth. 


OF  THE   CHRISTIAN   RELIGION.  21 

Will  they  object  the  wicked  lives  of  its  professors  against 
the  holiness  and  good  tendency  of  Christianity  itself?  But 
it  is  Christianity  as  tanght  by  Christ  and  his  apostles,  and 
continued  in  the  Bible,  that  I  am  proving  to  be  divine? 
You  know  that  it  is  the  latter,  and  consequently  the  poor 
appearance  it  makes  in  the  former  sense,  is  no  argument 
against  its  purity  and  divinity  in  this.  Again,  are  the  bad 
lives  of  professors  taught  and  enjoined  by  genuine  Chris- 
tianity, and  agreeable  to  it  ?  No ;  they  are  quite  contrary 
to  it,  and  subversive  of  it ;  and  it  is  so  far  from  encouraging- 
such  professors,  that  it  pronounces  them  miserable  hypo- 
crites; and  their  doom  will  be  more  severe  than  that  of 
heathens.  Further:  are  there  not  some  of  the  professors 
of  Christianity  who  live  habitually  according  to  it  ?  who 
give  us  the  best  patterns  of  piety  and  virtue  that  ever  were 
exhibited  to  the  world  ?  This  is  sufficient  to  vindicate  the 
religion  they  profess,  and  it  is  highly  injurious  to  involve 
such  promiscuously  in  the  odium  and  contempt  due  to 
barefaced  hypocrites.  Or  will  they  change  the  note,  and 
instead  of  pleading  that  Christianity  leads  to  licentiousness, 
object  that  it  bears  too  hard  upon  the  pleasures  of  mankind, 
and  lays  them  under  too  severe  restraints?  Or  that  its 
penalties  are  excessive  and  cruel  ?  But  does  it  rob  mankind 
of  any  pleasures  worthy  the  rational  nature,  worthy  the 
pursuit  of  creatures  formed  for  immortality,  and  consistent 
Avith  the  good  of  the  whole  ? 

Will  they  object  that  miracles  are  not  a  sufficient  evi- 
dence of  the  truth  and  divinity  of  a  revelation,  because 
infernal  spirits  may  also  work  miracles,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  magicians  of  Egypt,  to  confirm  an  imposture  ?  But  it 
is  known  that  our  freethinkers  expunge  and  laugh  at  the 
existence  and  power  of  evil  spirits  in  other  cases,  and  there- 
fore must  not  be  allowed  to  admit  them  here  to  serve  their 
turn.  However,  we  grant  there  are  infernal  spirits,  and 
that  they  can  perform  mar^  things  above  human  power, 
which  appear  to  us  miraculous,  and  yet  the  evidence  in 
favor  of  Christianity  taken  from  miracles  stands  un- 
shaken ;  for, 

(1.)  Can  we  suppose  that  these  malignant  and  wicked 
spirits,  whose  business  it  is  to  seduce  men  to  sin  and  ruin, 
w^ould  be  willing  to  exert  their  power  to  work  miracles  to 
confirm  so  holy  a  religion,  a  religion  so  contrary  to  their 
designs,  and  so  subversive  of  their  kingdom  and  interest  ? 


22  THE   DIVINE  AUTHORITY   AND  SUFFICIENCY 

Or  if  we  sliould  suppose  them  willing,  yet,  (2.)  Can  we 
think  that  God,  who  has  them  all  at  his  control,  would 
suffer  them  to  counterfeit  tlie  great  seal  of  heaven,  and 
annex  it  to  an  imposture  ?  that  is,  to  work  such  miracles 
as  could  not  be  distinguished  from  those  wrought  by  him 
to  attest  an  imposture  ?  Would  he  permit  them  to  impose 
upon  mankind  in  a  manner  that  could  not  be  detected  ? 
This  would  be  to  deliver  the  world  to  their  management, 
and  suffer  them  to  lead  them  blindfold  to  hell  in  unavoid- 
able delusion  :  for  miracles  are  such  dazzling  and  pompous 
evidences,  that  the  general  run  of  mankind  could  not  resist 
them,  even  though  they  were  wrought  to  attest  a  religion 
that  might  be  demonstrated  by  a  long  train  of  sublime  rea- 
soning to  be  false.  God  may,  indeed,  suffer  the  devil  to 
mimic  the  miracles  wrought  by  his  immediate  hand,  as  in 
the  case  of  Jannes  and  Jambres  ;  but  then,  as  in  that  case, 
too,  he  will  take  care  to  excel  them,  and  give  some  distin- 
guishing marks  of  his  almighty  agency,  which  all  mankind 
may  easily  discriminate  from  the  utmost  exertion  of  infernal 
power.  But  though  Satan  should  be  willing,  and  God 
should  permit  him,  to  work  miracles,  yet,  (3.)  Can  we  sup- 
pose that  all  the  united  powers  of  hell  are  able  to  work 
such  astonishing  miracles  as  were  wrought  for  the  confir- 
mation of  the  Christian  religion?  Can  we  suppose  that 
they  can  control  the  laws  of  nature  at  pleasure,  and  that 
with  an  air  of  sovereignty,*  and  professing  themselves  the 
lords  of  the  universe,  as  Ave  know  Christ  did?  If  they 
could  exert  a  creating  power  to  form  new  limbs  for  the 
maimed,  or  to  multiply  five  loaves  and  two  fishes  into  a 
sufficient  quantity  of  food  for  five  thousand,  and  leave  a 
greater  quantity  of  fragments  when  that  were  done  than 
the  whole  provision  at  first,  then  they  might  create  the 
world,  and  support  all  the  creatures  in  it.  If  they  could 
animate  the  dead  and  remand  the  separate  soul  back  to  its 
former  habitation  and  reunite  tit  with  the  body,  then  I  sec 
not  why  they  might  not  have  given  life  at  first.  ,  But  to 
suppose  this,  would  be  to  dethrone  the  King  of  heaven, 
and  renounce  his  providence  entirely.  We  therefore  rest 
assured  that  the  miracles  related  in  Scripture  were  wrought 
by  the  finger  of  God. 

But  our  freethinkers  will  urge,  How  do  we  at  this  dis- 
tance know  that  such  miracles  were  actually  wrought? 
they  arc  only  related  in  Scripture  history ;  but  to  prove 


OF  THE   CHRISTIAN   RELIGION.  23 

the  truth  of  Scripture  from  arguments  tliat  suppose  tlie 
Scripture  true,  is  a  ridiculous  method  of  reasoning,  and 
only  a  begging  of  the  question.  But  (1.)  the  reality  of 
those  miracles  were  granted  by  the  enemies  of  Christianity 
in  their  writings  against  it ;  but  they  had  no  answer  to 
make,  but  this  sorry  one,  that  they  were  wrought  by  the 
power  of  magic.  They  never  durst  deny  that  they  were 
wrought;  for  they  knew  all  the  world  could  prove  it. 
Indeed,  an  honorable  testimony  concerning  them  could 
not  be  expected  from  infidels ;  for  it  would  be  utterly  in- 
consistent that  they  should  own  these  miracles  sufficient 
attestations  of  Christianity  and  yet  continue  infidels.     But, 

(2.)  As  these  miracles  were  of  so  public  a  nature,  and  as 
so  many  were  concerned  to  detect  them,  that  they  would 
unavoidably  have  been  detected  when  related  in  words,  if 
they  had  not  been  done,  so,  for  the  same  reasons,  they 
could  not  but  have  been  detected  when  related  in  writing ; 
and  this  Ave  know  they  never  were.  If  these  miracles  had 
not  been  matters  of  undoubted  fact,  they  could  not  have 
been  inserted  at  first  in  the  gospel-history ;  for  then  many 
thousands  in  various  countries  were  alive  to  confute  them ; 
and  they  could  not  have  been  introduced  into  it  afterwards, 
for  all  the  world  would  see  that  it  was  then  too  late,  and 
that  if  there  had  been  such  things,  they  should  have  heard 
of  them  before ;  for  they  were  more  necessary  for  the  first 
propagation  of  Christianity  than  for  its  support  when  re- 
ceived. 

But  it  may  be  objected.  How  can  we  at  this  distance 
know  that  these  histories  are  genuine?  May  they  not 
have  been  corrupted  and  many  additions  made  to  them  by 
designing  men  in  ages  since  ?  And  why  is  it  not  also  asked, 
hoAv  do  we  know  that  there  were  such  men  as  Alexander, 
Julius  Csesar,  or  King  William  the  Third?  How  do  we 
know  but  their  histories  are  all  romance*  and  fable  ?  How 
do  we  know  there  were  any  generations  of  mankind  before 
ourselves?  In  short.  How  can  we  know  any  thing,  but 
what  we  have  seen  with  our  eyes  ?  We  may  as  well  make 
difficulties  of  all  these  things,  and  so  destroy  all  human 
testimony,  as  scruple  the  genuineness  of  the  sacred  writings ; 
for  never  were  any  writings  conveyed  down  -with  so  good 
evidence  of  their  being  genuine  and  uncorrupted  as  these. 
Upon  their  first  publication  they  were  put  into  all  hands, 
they  were  scattered  into  all  nations,  translated  into  various 


24  THE   DIVINE   AUTHOEITY   AND   SUFFICIENCY 

languages,  and  all  perused  them,  either  to  be  taught  by 
them,  or  to  cavil  at  them.  And  ever  since,  they  have  been 
quoted  by'  thousands  of  authors,  appealed  to  by  all  parties 
of  Christians,  as  the  supreme  judge  of  controversies ;  and 
not  only  the  enemies  of  Christianity  have  carefully  watched 
them  to  detect  any  alterations  which  pious  fraud  might 
attempt  to  make,  but  one  sect  of  Christians  has  kept  a 
watchful  eye  over  the  other,  lest  they  should  alter  any  thing 
in  favor  of  their  own  cause.  And  it  is  matter  of  astonish- 
ment as  well  as  conviction  that  all  the  various  copies  and 
translations  of  the  Scriptures  in  different  nations  and  libra- 
ries are  substantially  the  same,  and  differ  only  in  matters 
of  small  moment ;  so  that  from  the  worst  copy  or  transla- 
tion in  the  world,  one  might  easily  learn  the  substance  of 
Christianity. 

Thus  I  have  answered  as  many  objections  as  the  bounds 
of  a  sermon  would  admit ;  and  I  think  they  are  the  princi- 
pal ones  which  lie  against  my  subject  in  the  view  I  have 
considered  it.  And  as  I  have  not  designedly  selected  the 
weakest,  in  order  to  an  easy  triumph,  you  may  look  upon 
the  answers  that  have  been  given  as  a  ground  of  rational 
presumption,  that  other  objections  may  be  answered  with 
equal  ease.  Indeed,  if  they  could  not,  it  would  not  invali- 
date the  positive  arguments  in  favor  of  Christianity ;  for 
when  we  have  sufficient  positive  evidence  of  a  thing,  we  do 
not  reject  it  because  it  is  attended  with  some  difficulties 
which  we  cannot  solve. 

My  time  will  allow  me  to  make  but  two  or  three  short 
reflections  upon  the  whole. 

1.  If  the  rehgion  of  Jesus  be  attended  with  such  full  evi- 
dence, and  be  sufficient  to  conduct  men  to  everlasting  feli- 
city, then  how  helpless  are  they  that  have  enjoyed  it  all 
their  life  without  profit:  who  either  reject  it  as  false,  or 
have  not  felt  its  power  to  reform  their  hearts  and  lives  ? 
It  is  the  last  remedy  provided  for  a  guilty  world ;  and  if 
this  fails,  their  disease  is  incurable,  and  they  are  not  to 
expect  better  means. 

2.  If  the  religion  of  Jesus  be  true,  then  woe  unto  the 
wicked  of  all  sorts :  woe  to  infidels,  both  practical  and  spec- 
ulative, for  all  the  curses  of  it  are  in  full  force  against  them, 
and  I  need  not  tell  you  how  dreadful  they  are. 

8.  If  the  religion  of  Jesus  be  true,  then  I  congratulate 
such  of  you,  whose  hearts  and  lives  arc  habitually  conformed 


THE    METHOD    OF   SALVATIOIS',    ETC  '25 

to  it,  and  who  have  ventured  your  everlasting  all  upon  it. 
You  build  upon  a  sure  foundation,  and  your  hope  shall 
never  make  you  ashamed. 

Finally,  let  us  all  strive  to  become  rational  and  practical 
believers  of  this  heaven-born  religion.  Let  our  understand- 
ings be  more  rationally  and  thoroughly  convinced  of  its 
truth;  and  our  hearts  and  lives  be  more  and  more  con- 
formed to  its  purity ;  and  ere  long  we  shall  receive  those 
glorious  rewards  it  insures  to  all  its  sincere  disciples ;  which 
may  God  grant  to  us  all  for  Jesus'  sake,  Amen  ! 


II. 

THE  METHOD  OF  SALVATION  THROUGH  JESUS  CHRIST. 

^  For  God  so  loved  the  world,  tliat  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  who- 
soever believeth  in  hira  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life." — 
John,  iii.  16. 

My  text  is  a  part  of  the  most  important  evening  con- 
versation that  ever  was  held ;  I  mean  that  between  Christ 
and  Nicodemus,  a  Pharisee  and  ruler  of  the  Jews.  Our 
Lord  first  instructs  him  in  the  doctrine  of  regeneration,  that 
grand  constituent  of  a  Christian,  and  pre-requisite  to  our 
admission  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven;  and  then  he  pro- 
ceeds to  inform  him  of  the  gospel  method  of  salvation, 
which  contains  these  two  grand  articles :  the  death  of  Christ, 
as  the  great  foundation  of  blessedness ;  and  faith  in  him,  as 
the  great  qualification  upon  the  part  of  the  sinner.  He 
presents  this  important  doctrine  to  us  in  various  forms,  with 
a  very  significant  repetition.  As  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent 
ill  the  wilderness,  even  so  shall  the  Son  of  man  he  lifted  %qo  ; 
tliat  is,  hung  on  high  on  a  cross,  that  whosoever  helieveth  in  him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.  Then  follows  my 
text,  which  expresses  the  same  doctrine  with  great  force. 
God  so  loved  the  icorld,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son, 
gave  him  up  to  death,  that  luhosoever  believeth  in  him  should 
not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.  He  goes  on  to  mention 
a  wonder.  This  earth  is  a  rebellious  province  of  Jehovah's 
dominions,  and,  therefore,  if  his  Son  should  ever  visit  it, 


26  THE   METHOD    OF   SJtLVATION 

one  would  think  it  would  be  as  an  angiy  judge,  or  as  tlio 
executioner  of  his  Father's  vengeance.  But,  oh,  astonishing ! 
God  sent  not  his  Son  into  the  ivorld  to  condemn  the  icorh.l,  hut 
that  the  loorld  through  him  might  he  saved.  Hence  the  terms 
of  hfe  and  death  are  thus  fixed :  He  that  helieveth  in  him  is 
not  condemned:  hut  he  that  helieveth  not  is  condemned  alreadi/, 
hecause  lie  hath  not  helieved  on  the  only  hegotten  Son  of  God. 
Sure  the  heavenly  rivers  of  pleasure  flow  in  these  verses, 
l^ever,  methinks,  was  there  so  much  gospel  expressed  in 
so  few  words.  Here  take  the  gospel  in  miniature,  and  bind 
it  to  your  hearts  for  ever.  These  verses  alone,  methinks^ 
are  a  sufficient  remedy  for  a  dying  world. 

I.  My  text  implies,  that  Avithout  Christ  you  are  all  in  a 
perishing  condition. 

This  holds  true  of  you  in  particular,  because  it  holds 
true  of  the  world  universally :  for  the  v/orld  was  undoubt- 
edly in  a  perishing  condition  without  Christ ;  and  none  but 
he  could  relieve  it,  otherwise  God  would  never  have  given 
his  only  begotten  Son  to  save  it.  God  is  not  ostentatious 
or  prodigal  of  his  gifts,  especially  of  so  inestimable  a  gift 
as  his  Son,  whom  he  loves  infinitely  more  than  the  whole 
creation.  So  great,  so  dear  a  person,  would  not  have  been 
sent  upon  a  mission  which  could  have  been  discharged  by 
any  other  being.  Thousands  of  rams  must  bleed  in  sacri- 
fice, or  ten  thousands  of  rivers  of  oil  must  flow ;  our  fii^st- 
born  must  die  for  our  transgressions,  and  the  fruit  of  our 
body  for  the  sin  of  our  souls ;  or  Gabriel,  or  some  of  the 
upper  ranks  of  angels,  must  leave  their  thrones,  and  hang 
upon  a  cross,  if  such  methods  of  salvation  had  been  suffi- 
cient. All  this  would  have  been  nothing  in  comparison  of 
the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  leaving  his  native  heaven, 
and  all  its  glories,  assuming  our  degraded  nature,  spending 
thirty -three  long  and  tedious  years  in  poverty,  disgrace,  and 
persecution,  dying  as  a  malefactor  and  a  slave  in  the  midst 
of  ignominy  and  torture,  and  lying  a  mangled,  breathless 
corpse  in  the  grave.  We  may  be  sure  there  was  the  high- 
est degree  of  necessity  for  it,  otherwise  God  would  not  have 
given  up  his  dear  Son  to  such  a  horrid  scene  of  suffering. 

This,  then,  was  the  true  state  of  the  world,  and  conse- 
quently yours  without  Christ ;  it  was  hopeless  and  despe- 
rate in  every  view.  In  that  situation  there  would  not  have 
been  so  much  goodness  in  the  world  as  to  try  the  efficacy 
of  sacrifices,  prayers,  tears,  reformation,  nnd  repentance, 


THROUGH   JESUS   CHRIST.  27 

or  they  would  liave  been  tried  in  vain.  It  would  have 
been  inconsistent  with  the  honor  of  the  divine  perfections 
and  government,  to  admit  sacrifices,  prayers,  tears,  repent- 
ance, and  reformation,  as  a  snfiicient  atonement. 

What  a  melancholy  view  of  the  world  have  we  now  be- 
fore us !  We  know  the  state  of  mankind  only  under  the 
gracious  government  of  a  Mediator;  and  we  but  seldom 
realize  what  our  miserable  condition  would  have  been,  had 
this  gracious  administration  never  been  set  up.  But 
exclude  a  Saviour  in  your  thoughts  for  a  moment,  and  then 
take  a  view  of  the  world — helpless !  hopeless ! — under  the 
righteous  displeasure  of  God,  and  despairing  of  relief! — ■ 
the  very  suburbs  of  hell !  the  range  of  maligTiant  devils ! 
the  region  of  guilt,  misery,  and  despair ! — the  mouth  of  the 
infernal  pit ! — the  gate  of  hell !  This  would  have  been  the 
condition  of  our  world  had  it  not  been  for  that  Jesus  who 
redeemed  it ;  and  yet  in  this  very  world  He  is  neglected 
and  despised. 

But  you  will  ask  me,  "How  comes  it  that  the  world 
was  in  such  an  undone,  helpless,  hopeless  condition  with- 
out Christ?  or  what  are  the  reasons  of  all  this?" 

The  true  account  of  this  will  appear  from  these  two  con- 
siderations: that  all  mankind  are  sinners;  and  that  no 
other  method  but  the  mediation  of  Christ  could  render  the 
salvation  of  sinners  consistent  with  the  honor  of  the  di- 
vine perfections  and  government,  with  the  public  good,  and 
even  with  the  nature  of  things. 

All  mankind  are  sinners.  This  is  too  evident  to  need 
proof  They  are  sinners,  rebels  against  the  gTeatest  and 
best  of  beings,  against  their  Maker,  their  liberal  Benefactor, 
and  their  rightful  Sovereign,  to  whom  they  are  under 
stronger  and  more  endearing  obligations  than  they  can  be 
under  to  any  creature,  or  even  to  the  entire  system  of 
creatures ;  sinners,  rebels  in  every  part  of  our  globe  ;  none 
righteous,  no,  not  one;  all  sinners,  without  exception; 
sinners  from  age  to  age  for  thousands  of  years.  Thousands, 
millions,  innumerable  multitudes  of  sinners.  What  an 
obnoxious  race  is  this !  There  appears  no  difiiculty  in  the 
way  of  justice  to  punish  such  creatures.  But  what  seeming 
insuperable  difficulties  appear  in  the  way  of  salvation ! 
Let  me  mention  a  few  of  them,  to  recommend  that  blessed 
Saviour  who  has  removed  them  all. 

If  such  sinners  be  saved,  how  shall  the  holiness  and  jus- 


28  THE   METHOD   OF   SALVATION 

tice  of  God  be  displayed  ?  How  sliall  lie  give  an  honorable 
view  of  himself  to  all  worlds,  as  a  being  of  perfect  purity, 
and  an  enemy  to  all  moral  evil  ? 

If  such  sinners  be  saved,  how  shall  the  honor  of  the 
divine  government  and  law  be  secured?  How  shall  the 
dignity  of  a  law  appear,  if  a  race  of  rebels  may  trifle  with 
it  with  impunity  ?  How  can  the  sinner  be  saved,  and  yet 
the  evil  of  sin  be  displayed,  and  all  other  beings  be  de- 
terred from  it  for  ever  ?  How  can  sin  be  discouraged  by 
pardoning  it  ?  Its  evil  displayed  by  letting  the  criminal 
escape  punishment  ?  These  are  such  difficulties,  that  noth- 
ing but  divine  Avisdom  could  surmount  them. 

These  difficulties  lie  in  the  way  of  a  mere  pardon  and 
exemption  from  punishment ;  but  salvation  includes  more 
than  this.  When  sinners  are  saved,  they  are  not  only 
pardoned,  but  received  into  high  favor,  made  the  children, 
the  friends,  the  courtiers  of  the  King  of  heaven.  How  can 
the  sinner  be  not  only  delivered  from  punishment,  but  also 
advanced  to  a  state  of  perfect  happiness  ?  Not  only  escape 
the  displeasure  of  his  offended  sovereign,  but  be  received 
into  full  favor,  and  advanced  to  the  highest  honor  and 
dignity ;  how  can  this  be  done  without  casting  a  cloud  over 
the  purity  and  justice  of  the  Lord  of  all,  without  sinking 
his  law  and  government  into  contempt?  how  can  sinners, 
I  say,  be  saved  without  the  salvation  being  attended  with 
these  bad  consequences  ? 

To  save  men  at  random,  without  considering  the  con- 
sequences, to  distribute  happiness  to  jorivate  persons  with 
an  undistinguishing  hand,  this  would  be  at  once  incon- 
sistent with  the  character  of  the  Supreme  Magistrate  of  the 
universe,  and  with  the  public  good.  Private  persons  are 
at  liberty  to  forgive  private  offences ;  nay,  it  is  their  duty 
to  forgive ;  and  they  can  hardly  offend  by  way  of  excess 
in  the  generous  virtues  of  mercy  and  compassion.  But  the 
case  is  otherwise  with  a  magistrate ;  he  is  obliged  to  consult 
the  dignity  of  his  government  and  the  interest  of  the 
public ;  and  he  may  easily  carry  his  lenity  to  a  very  dan- 
gerous extreme,  and.  by  his  tenderness  to  criminals  do  an 
extensive  injury  to  the  state.  This  is  particularly  the  case 
Vf  ith  regard  to  the  great  God,  the  universal  Supreme  Magis- 
trate of  all  worlds.  And  this  ought  to  be  seriously  con- 
sidered by  tliose  men  of  loose  principles  among  us,  who 
l(^ok  upon  God  only  under  the  fond  character  of  a  father, 


THROUGH  JESUS   CHRIST.  29 

or  a  being  of  infinite  mercj ;  and  thence  conclude  tliat  tliey 
have  little  to  fear  from  him  for  all  their  audacious  iniquities. 
There  is  no  absolute  necessity  that  sinners  should  be  saved ; 
justice  may  be  suffered  to  take  place  upon  them.  But 
there  is  the  most  absolute  necessity  that  the  Ruler  of  the 
world  shoidd  both  be,  and  appear  to  be,  holy  and  just, 
lliere  is  the  most  absolute  necessity  that  he  should  support 
the  dignity  of  his  government,  and  guard  it  from  contempt, 
that  he  should  strike  all  worlds  with  a  proper  horror  of 
sin,  and  represent  it  in  its  genuine,  infernal  colors,  and  so 
consult  the  good  of  the  whole  rather  than  a  part. 

And  must  we  then  give  up  ourselves  and  all  our  race  as 
lost  beyond  recovery?  There  are  seemingly  insuperable 
difficulties  in  the  way ;  and  we  have  seen  that  neither  men 
nor  angels  can  j^rescribe  any  relief;  which  leads  me  to  add, 

11.  My  text  implies,  that  through  Jesus  Christ  a  way  is 
opened  for  your  salvation.  He,  and  he  only,  was  found 
equal  to  the  undertaking ;  and  before  him  all  these  moun- 
tains become  a  plain ;  all  these  difficulties  vanish ;  and  now 
God  can  be  just,  can  secure  the  dignity  of  his  character,  as 
the  ruler  of  the  world,  and  answer  all  the  ends  of  govern- 
ment, and  yet  justify  and  save  the  sinner  that  belie veth 
in  Jesus.  This  is  plainly  implied  in  this  glorious  epitome 
of  the  gospel :  God  so  loved  the  luorld,  that  he  gave  his  only 
hegotten  Son,  that  ivhosoever  helieveth  in  him  should  not  perish, 
hut  have  everlasting  life.  Without  this  gift  all  was  lost ;  but 
now,  whosoever  believeth  in  him  may  be  saved ;  saved  in 
a  most  honorable  way.  Was  it  necessary  that  the  holiness 
and  justice  of  God  should  be  displayed  in  the  salvation  of 
sinners  ?  See  how  bright  they  shine  in  a  suftering  Saviour ! 
Now,  it  appears  that  such  is  the  hohness  and  justice  of 
God,  that  he  will  not  let  even  his  own  Son  escape  unpun- 
ished, when  he  stands  in  the  low  place  of  sinners.  Could 
the  execution  of  everlasting  punishment  upon  the  hateful 
criminals  themselves  ever  give  so  bright  a  display  of  these 
attributes  ?     It  were  impossible.     Again, 

Was  it  a  difficulty  to  save  sinners,  and  yet  maintain  the 
rights  of  the  divine  government,  and  the  honor  of  the 
law?  See  how  this  difficulty  is  removed  by  the  obedience 
and  death  of  Christ !  Now  it  appears  that  the  rights  of 
the  divine  government  are  so  sacred  and  inviolable,  that 
they  must  be  maintained,  though  the  darling  Son  of  God 
should  fall  a  sacrifice  to  justice ;  and  that  not  one  offence 


80  TilE    METHOD   OF   SALVATION 

against  this  government  can  be  pardoned,  without  his 
making  a  full  atonement.     Further, 

AVas  it  a  difficulty  how  sinners  might  be  saved,  and  yet 
the  evil  of  sin  be  displayed  in  all  its  horrors  ?  Go  to  the 
cross  of  Christ ;  there,  je  fools,  that  make  a  mock  of  sin, 
there  learn  its  malignity,  and  its  hatefulness  to  the  great  God. 
There  you  may  see  it  so  great  an  evil,  that  when  it  is  but 
imputed  to  the  man  that  is  God's  fellow,  as  the  surety  of 
sinners,  it  cannot  escape  punishment.  What  an  enormous 
evil  must  that  be,  Avliich  cannot  be  connived  at  even  in  the 
favorite  of  Heaven,  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God !  Surely 
nothing  besides  could  give  so  striking  a  display  of  its  ma- 
lignity ! 

Now,  since  all  obstructions  are  removed  on  God's  part, 
that  lay  in  the  Avay  of  our  salvation,  why  should  we  not  all 
be  saved  together  ?  What  is  there  to  hinder  our  crowding 
into  heaven  promiscuously  ?  Or,  what  is  there  requisite  on 
our  part,  in  order  to  make  us  partakers  of  this  salvation  ? 
Here  it  is  proper  to  pass  on  to  the  next  truth  inferred  from 
the  text,  namely : 

III.  That  the  grand  pre-requisite  to  your  being  saved  in 
this  way,  is  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.  Though  the  obstructions 
on  God's  part  are  removed  by  the  death  of  Christ,  yet  there 
is  one  remaining  in  the  sinner,  which  cannot  be  removed 
without  his  consent ;  and  which,  while  it  remains,  renders 
his  salvation  impossible  in  the  nature  of  things ;  that  is,  the 
depravity  and  corruption  of  his  nature.  Till  this  is  cured, 
he  cannot  relish  those  fruitions  and  emploj^ments  in  which 
the  happiness  of  heaven  consists,  and  consequently  be  happy 
there.  Therefore  there  is  a  necessity  in  the  very  nature  of 
things,  that  he  should  be  made  holy,  in  order  to  b6  saved ; 
nay,  his  salvation  itself  consists  in  holiness.  Now,  faith  is 
the  root  of  all  holiness  in  a  sinner.  .  Without  a  firm  reali- 
zing belief  of  the  great  truths  of  the  gospel,  it  is  impossible 
a  sinner  should  be  sanctified  by  their  influence  :  and  with- 
out a  particular  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  he  cannot  derive  from 
him  those  sanctifjdng  influences  by  which  alone  he  can  be 
made  holy,  and  which  are  conveyed  through  Jesus  Christ, 
and  through  him  alone. 

Here,  then,  a  most  interesting  inquiry  presents  itself: 
"What  is  it  to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ?  or,  what  is  that 
faith  which  is  the  grand  pre-requisite  to  salvation  ?"  If 
you  are  capable  of  attention  to  the  most  interesting  affliir 


THROUGH  JESU3   CHRIST.  31 

iu  all  tlie  world,  attend  to  this  with  the  utmost  seriousness 
and  solemnity. 

(1.)  Faith  pre-supposes  a  deep  sense  of  our  undone,  help- 
less condition.  I  told  you  before,  this  is  the  condition  of 
the  world  Avithout  Christ ;  and  you  must  be  sensible  at 
heart  that  this  is  your  condition  in  particular,  before  you 
can  believe  in  him  as  your  Saviour.  He  came  to  be  a 
Saviour  in  a  desperate  case,  when  no  relief  could  possibly 
be  had  from  any  other  quarter,  and  you  cannot  receive  him 
under  that  character  till  you  feel  yourselves  in  such  a  case ; 
therefore,  in  order  to  your  believing,  all  your  pleas  and 
excuses  for  your  sins  must  be  silenced,  all  your  high  conceit 
for  your  own  goodness  must  be  mortified,  all  your  depend- 
ence upon  your  own  righteousness,  upon  the  merit  of  your 
prayers,  your  repentance,  and  good  works,  must  be  cast 
down,  and  3^ou  must  feel  that  indeed  you  lie  at  mercy, 
that  God  may  justly  reject  you  for  ever,  and  that  all  you 
can  do  can  bring  him  under  no  obligation  to  save  you. 

I  wish  and  pray  you  may  this  day  see  yourselves  in  this 
true,  though  mortiiying  light.  It  is  the  want  of  this  sense 
of  things  that  keeps  such  crowds  of  persons  unbelievers 
among  us.  It  is  the  want  of  this  that  causes  the  Lord  Jesus 
to  be  so  little  esteemed,  so  little  sought  for,  so  little  desired 
among  us.  In  short,  it  is  the  want  of  this  that  is  the  great 
occasion  of  so  many  perisliing  from  under  the  gospel,  and, 
as  it  were,  from  between  the  hands  of  a  Saviour.  It  is  this, 
alas !  that  causes  them  to  perish,  like  the  impenitent  thief 
on  the  cross,  with  a  Saviour  by  his  side. 

(2.)  Faith  implies  the  enlightening  of  the  understanding 
to  discover  the  suitableness  of  Jesus  Christ  as  a  Saviour, 
and  the  excellency  of  the  way  of  salvation  through  him.. 
In  short,  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  the  way  of  salvation  through 
him,  appear  perfectly  suitable,  all-sufficient,  and  all-glorious ; 
and,  in  consequence  of  this, 

(3.)  The  sinner  is  enabled  to  embrace  this  Saviour  with 
all  his  heart,  and  to  give  a  voluntary,  cheerful  consent  to 
this  glorious  scheme  of  salvation.  Now  all  his  former  un- 
willingness and  reluctance  are  subdued,  and  his  heart  no 
more  draws  back  from  the  terms  of  the  gospel,  but  he  com- 
plies with  them,  and  that  not  merely  out  of  constraint  and 
necessity,  but  out  of  free  choice,  and  with  the  greatest 
pleasure  and  delight. 

(4.)  Faith  in  Jesus  Christ  implies  an  humble  trust  or 


82  THE   METHOD   OF   SALVATION 

dependence  upon  liim  alone  for  the  pardon  of  sin,  accept- 
ance with  God,  and  every  blessing.  As  I  told  you  before, 
the  sinner's  self-confidence  is  mortified;  he  gives  up  all 
hopes  of  acceptance  upon  the  footing  of  his  own  righteous- 
ness ;  he  is  filled  with  self-despair,  and  yet  he  does  not 
despair  absolutely ;  he  does  not  give  up  himself  as  lost, 
but  has  cheerful  hopes  of  becoming  a  child  of  God,  and 
being  for  ever  happy,  guilty  and  unworthy  as  he  is :  and 
what  are  these  hopes  founded  upon  ?  Why,  upon  the  mere 
free  grace  and  mercy  of  God,  through  the  righteousness  of 
Jesus  Christ.  On  this  he  ventures  a  guilty,  unworthy, 
helpless  soul,  and  finds  it  a  firm  immovable  foundation, 
while  every  other  ground  of  dependence  proves  but  a 
quicksand. 

I  shall  only  add,  this  faith  may  also  be  known  by  its 
inseparable  eftects ;  which  are  such  as  follow :  Faith  puri- 
fies the  heart,  and  is  a  lively  principle  of  inward  holiness ; 
faith  is  always  productive  of  good  works,  and  leads  to 
universal  obedience  ;  faith  overcomes  the  world  and  all  its 
temptations ;  faith  realizes  eternal  things,  and  brings  them 
near ;  and  hence  it  is  defined  by  the  apostle.  The  substance 
of  things  hoj^ed  for,  and  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen. 

lY.  My  text  implies,  that  every  one,  without  exception, 
whatever  his  former  character  has  been,  tha,t  is  enabled  to 
believe  in  Jesus  Christ,  shall  certainly  be  saved. 

The  number  or  aggravations  of  sin  do  not  alter  the  case ; 
and  the  reason  is,  the  sinner  is  not  received  into  favor,  in 
whole  or  in  part,  upon  the  account  of  any  thing  personal, 
but  solely  and  entirely  upon  the  account  of  the  righteous- 
ness of  Jesus  Christ.  Now,  this  righteousness  is  perfectly 
equal  to  all  the  demands  of  the  law  ;  and  therefore,  when 
this  righteousness  is  made  over  to  the  sinner  as  his  by  im- 
putation, the  law  has  no  more  demands  upon  him  for  great 
sins  than  for  small,  for  many  than  for  few ;  because  all 
demands  are  fully  satisfied  by  the  obedience  of  Jesus  Christ 
to  the  law. 

This  encouraging  truth  has  the  most  abundant  support 
from  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Observe  the  agreeable  indefinite 
ivhosoever  so  often  repeated.  "  Whosoever  believeth  in  him 
shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life."  Whosoever  he 
be,  however  vile,  however  guilty,  however  unworthy,  if  he 
does  but  believe,  he  shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life.     What  an  agreeable  assurance  is  this  from  the  lips  of 


THROUGH   JESUS   CHRIST.  33 

him  who  has  the  final  states  of  men  at  his  disposal !  The 
same  blessed  lips  has  also  declared,  Him  that  cometh  unto 
me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.  And  whosoever  will,  let  him 
take  the  ivater  of  life  freely.  He  has  given  you  more  than 
bare  words  to  establish  you  in  the  belief  of  this  truth ;  upon 
this  principle  he  has  acted,  choosing  some  of  the  most 
abandoned  sinners  to  make  them  examples,  not  of  his  jus- 
tice as  we  might  expect,  but  of  his  mercy,  for  the  encour- 
agement of  others.  You  may  see  what  monsters  of  sin  he 
chose  to  make  the  monuments  of  his  grace  in  Corinth. 
Neither  fornicators,  nor  idolaters,  nor  adidterers,  nor  effeim- 
inate,  nor  abusers  of  themselves  with  mankind,  nor  thieves, 
nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  extortioners, 
shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.  What  a  dismal  catalogue 
is  this  !  It  is  no  wonder,  such  a  crew  should  not  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  heaA^en ;  they  are  fit  only  for  the  infernal 
prison ;  and  yet,  astonishing !  it  follows,  such  were  some  of 
you  ;  hut  ye  are  vjashed,  hid  ye  are  sanctified,  hid  ye  are  jus- 
tified, in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  hy  the  siiirit  of  our 
God.  1  Cor.  vi.  9-11.  Plere  is  a  door  wide  enough  for 
you  all,  if  you  will  but  enter  in  by  faith.  Come,  then, 
enter  in,  you  that  have  hitherto  claimed  a  horrid  pre- 
cedence in  sin,  that  have  been  ringleaders  in  vice,  come 
now,  take  the  lead,  and  show  others  the  way  to  Jesus 
Christ ;  harlots,  publicans,  thieves,  and  murderers,  if  such 
be  among  you,  there  is  salvation  even  for  you,  if  you  will 
but  believe.  0 1  how  astonishing  is  the  love  of  God  dis- 
covered in  this  way  ;  a  consideration  which  introduces  the 
last  inference  from  my  text,  namely, 

Y.  That  the  constitution  of  this  method  of  salvation,  or 
the  mission  of  a  Saviour  into  our  world,  is  a  most  striking 
and  astonishing  display  of  the  love  of  God  :  God  so  loved 
die  world  that  he  gave  his  only  hegotten  Son,  &c. 

Yiew  the  scheme  all  through,  and  you  will  discover  love, 
infinite  love,  infinite  love  in  every  part  of  it.  Consider  the 
world  sunk  in  sin,  not  only  Avithout  merit,  but  most  de- 
serving of  everlasting  punishment,  and  what  but  love  could 
move  God  to  have  mercy  upon  such  a  world  ?  Consider 
the  Saviour  provided,  not  an  angel,  not  the  highest  creature, 
but  his  Son,  his  only  begotten  Son ;  and  what  but  love  could 
move  him  to  appoint  such  a  Saviour  ?  Consider  the  bless- 
ings conferred  through  this  Saviour,  deliverance  fi'om  per- 
dition, and  the  enjoyment  of  everlasting  life,  and  what  but 


84  THE  METHOD  OF  SALVATION 

the  love  of  God  could  confer  sucli  blessings  ?  Consider  the 
condition  upon  which  these  blessings  are  offered — faith,  that 
humble,  sell-emj3tied  grace,  so  suitable  to  the  circumstances 
of  a  poor  sinner,  that  brings  nothing  but  receives  all :  and 
what  but  divine  love  could  make  such  a  gTacious  appoint- 
ment ?     It  is  hy  faith,  that  it  miay  he  hy  grace.  ' 

And  now,  my  brethren,  to  draw  towards  a  conclusion,  I 
would  hold  a  treaty  with  you  this  day  about  the  recon- 
ciliation to  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  I  have  this  day 
set  life  and  death  before  you ;  I  have  opened  to  you  the 
method  of  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ ;  the  only  method 
in  which  you  can  be  saved ;  the  only  method  that  could 
atfbrd  a  gleam  of  hope  to  such  a  sinner  as  I  in  my  late  ap- 
proach to  the  eternal  world.^  And  now  I  would  bring 
the  matter  home,  and  propose  it  ta  you  all  to  consent  to  be 
saved  in  this  method,  or,  in  other  words,  to  believe  in  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  God ;  this  proposal  I  seriously  make 
to  you;  and  let  heaven  and  earth,  and  your  own  con- 
sciences, witness  that  it  is  made  to  you ;  I  also  insist  for  a 
determinate  answer  this  day ;  the  matter  will  not  admit  of 
a  delay,  and  the  duty  is  so  plain,  that  there  is  no  need  of 
time  to  deliberate. 

I  hope  you  now  see  good  reasons  why  I  should  exhort 
you  to  believe,  and  also  perceive  my  design  in  it ;  I  there- 
fore renew  the  proposal  to  you,  that  you  should  this  day, 
as  guilty,  unworthy,  self-despairing  sinners,  accept  of  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  God  as  your  Saviour,  and  foil  in  with 
the  gospel  method  of  salvation ;  and  I  once  more  demand 
your  answer.  I  would  by  no  means,  if  possible,  leave  the 
23ulpit  this  day  till  I  have  effectually  recommended  the 
blessed  Jesus,  my  Lord  and  Master,  to  your  acceptance.  I 
am  strongly  bound  by  the  vows  and  resolutions  of  a  sick- 
bed to  recommend  him  to  you;  and  now  I  would  en- 
deavor to  perform  my  vows,  I  would  have  us  all  this 
day,  before  we  part,  consent  to  God's  covenant,  that  we 
may  go  away  justified  to  our  houses.  To  this  I  persuade 
and  exhort  you,  in  the  name  and  by  the  authority  of  the 
great  God,  by  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ  for  sinners,  by 
your  own  most  urgent  and  absolute  necessity,  by  the  im- 
mense blessings  proposed  in  the  gospel,  and  by  the  heavy 
curse  denounced  against  unbelievers. 

*  Tliis  sermon  was  preached  a  little  after  recovery  from  a  severe  fit  of 
eickness. 


THROUGH  JESUS   CHRIST.  35 

All  tlie  blessings  of  tlie  gospel — pardon  of  sin,  sanctifying 
grace,  eternal  life,  and  whatever  you  can  want,  shall  become 
yours  this  day,  if  you  but  believe  in  the  Son  of  God ;  then 
let  desolation  overrun  our  land,  let  public  and  private 
calamities  crowd  upon  you,  and  make  jo\i  %o  many  Jobs 
for  poverty  and  affliction,  still  your  main  interest  is  secure ; 
the  storms  and  waves  of  trouble  can  only  bear  you  to 
heaven,  and  hasten  your  passage  to  the  harbor  of  eternal 
rest.  Let  devils  accuse  you  before  God,  let  conscience 
indict  you  and  bring  you  in  guilty,  let  the  fiery  law  make 
its  demands  upon  you,  you  have  a  righteousness  in  Jesus 
Christ  that  is  sufficient  to  answer  all  demands,  and,  having 
received  it  by  faith,  you  may  plead  it  as  your  own  in  law. 
Happy  souls !  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God,  for  your 
hope  will  never  make  you  ashamed ! 

But  I  expect,  as  usual,  some  of  you  will  refuse  to  comply 
with  this  proposal.  This,  alas !  has  been  the  usual  fate  of 
the  blessed  gospel  in  all  ages  and  in  all  countries ;  as  some 
have  received  it,  so  some  have  rejected  it.  Be  it  known  to  you 
from  the  living  God,  that  if  any  of  you  continue  in  unbelief, 
you  shut  the  door  of  mercy  against  yourselves,  and  exclude 
yourselves  from  eternal  life.  Whatever  splendid  appear- 
ances of  virtue,  whatever  amiable  qualities,  whatever  seem- 
ing good  works  you  have,  the  express  sentence  of  the  gospel 
lies  in  fall  force  against  you.  He  that  helieveth  not  sliall  he 
damned.  Mark,  xvi.  16.  He  that  helieveth  not  is  condemned 
already,  hecause  he  hath  not  believed  on  the  only  hegotten  Son 
of  God.  John,  iii.  18.  He  that  helieveth  not  shall  not  see  life  ; 
hut  the  wrath  of  God  ahideth  upon  him.  John,  iii.  36.  This 
is  your  doom  repeatedly  pronounced  by  him  whom  you 
must  own  to  be  the  best  friend  of  human  nature ;  and  if  he 
condemn,  who  can  justify  you  ? 

Be  it  known  to  you,  that  you  will  not  only  perish,  but 
you  will  perish  with  peculiar  aggravations ;  you  will  fall 
with  no  common  ruin ;  you  will  envy  the  lot  of  heathens 
who  perished  without  the  law  :  for,  0 !  you  incur  the  pecu- 
liarly enormous  guilt  of  rejecting  the  gospel,  and  putting 
contempt  upon  the  Son  of  God.  This  is  a  horrid  exploit 
of  wickedness,  and  this  God  resents  above  all  the  other 
crimes  of  which  human  nature  is  capable.  Hence  Christ 
is  come  for  judgment  as  well  as  for  mercy  upon  this  world, 
and  he  is  set  for  the  ftdl  as  well  as  the  rising  again  of  many 
in  Israel.     You  now  enjoy  the  light  of  the  gospel,  which 


36  SINNERS   ENTREATED 

lias  conducted  many  througli  this  dark  world  to  eternal 
day ;  but  remember  also,  this  is  the  condemnation ;  that  is, 
it  is  the  occasion  of  the  most  aggravated  condemnation,  thai 
light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men  love  darkness  rather 
than  light. 

And  now  does  not  this  move  you  ?  Are  you  not  alarmed 
at  the  thought  of  perishing ;  of  perishing  by  the  hand  of  a 
Saviour  rejected  and  despised ;  perishing  under  the  stain 
of  his  profaned  blood  ;  perishing  not  only  under  the  curse 
of  the  law,  but  under  that  of  the  gospel,  which  is  vastly 
heavier  ?  0  !  are  you  hardy  enough  to  venture  upon  such 
a  doom  ?  This  doom  is  unavoidable  if  you  refuse  to  com- 
ply with  the  proposal  now  made  to  you. 

I  must  now  conclude  the  treaty ;  but  for  my  own  acquit' 
tance,  I  must  take  witness  that  I  have  endeavored  to  dis 
charge  my  commission,  whatever  reception  you  give  it.  ] 
call  heaven  and  earth,  and  your  own  consciences  to  witness, 
that  life  and  salvation,  through  Jesus  Christ,  have  been  of- 
fered to  you  on  this  day ;  and  if  you  reject  it,  remember  it ; 
remember  it  whenever  you  see  this  place;  remember  it 
whenever  you  see  my  face,  or  one  another ;  remember  it, 
that  you  may  witness  for  me  at  the  supreme  tribunal,  that 
I  am  clear  of  your  blood.  Alas  [  you  will  remember  it 
among  a  thousand  painful  reflections  millions  of  ages  hence, 
when  the  remembrance  of  it  will  rend  your  hearts  like  a 
vulture.  Many  sermons  forgotten  upon  earth  are  remem- 
bered in  hell,  and  haunt  the  guilty  mind  for  ever.  O  that 
you  would  believe,  and  so  prevent  this  dreadful  effect  from 
the  present  sermon ! 


■■♦♦♦• 


III. 

SINNERS  ENTREATED  TO  BE  RECONCILED  TO  GOD. 

"  We  thou  are  embassadors  for  Christ,  as  though  God  did  beseech  you  bj 
us:  we  pray  you  in  Clnist's  stead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God." — 2  Cor 
V.  20. 

The  proper  notion  of  an  embassador  is  that  of  a  person 
sent  by  a  king  to  transact  affairs  in  his  name,  and  according 


TO   BE   RECONCILED   TO   GOD.  87 

to  his  instructions,  with  foreign  states,  or  part  of  his  sub- 
jects, to  Avhom  he  does  not  think  proper  to  go  himself  and 
treat  with  them  in  his  own  person.  Thus  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  is  not  personally  present  in  our  world  to  manage  the 
treaty  of  peace  himself,  but  he  has  appointed  first  his  apos- 
tles, and  then  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  through  every  age, 
to  carry  it  on  in  his  name.  Suppose  him  here  in  person 
treating  with  you  about  your  reconciliation  to  God,  and 
what  regard  you  would  pay  to  a  proposal  made  by  him  in 
person,  with  all  his  divine  royalties  about  him,  that  you 
should  now  show  to  the  treaty  I  am  to  negotiate  with  you 
in  his  name  and  stead. 

The  next  sentence  in  my  text  binds  you  still  more 
strongly  to  this ;  as  though  Ood  did  beseech  you  hy  us.  As  if 
he  had  said,  "  God  the  Father  also  concurs  in  this  treaty  of 
peace,  as  well  as  Christ  the  great  Peacemaker ;  and  as  we 
discharge  an  embassy  for  Christ,  so  we  do  also  for  God ; 
and  you  are  to  regard  our  beseeching  and  exhorting,  as 
though  the  great  God  did  in  person  beseech  and  exhort  you 
by  us."  How  astonishing,  how  Godlike,  how  unprecedented 
and  inimitable  is  this  condescension !  Let  heaven  and  earth 
admire  and  adore  !  It  is  by  us,  indeed,  by  us  poor  fellow- 
mortals,  that  he  beseeches :  but,  O  !  let  not  this  tempt  you 
to  disregard. him  or  his  entreaty  :  though  he  employs  such 
mean  embassadors,  yet  consider  his  dignity  who  sends  us, 
and  then  you  cannot  disregard  his  message  even  from  our 
mouth.  The  apostle,  having  thus  prepared  the  way,  pro- 
ceeds to  the  actual  exercise  of  his  office  as  an  embassador  for 
Christ:  We  pray  you,  says,  he  in  Christ's  stead,  he  reconciled 
to  God.  As  if  he  had  said,  "  If  Christ  were  now  present  in 
person  among  you,  this  is  what  he  would  propose  to  you, 
and  urge  upon  you,  that  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God : 
but  him  the  heavens  must  receive  till  the  time  of  the  resti- 
tution of  all  things ;  but  he  has  left  us  his  poor  servants  to 
officiate  in  his  place  as  well  as  we  can,  and  we  would  pros- 
ecute the  same  design,  we  would  urge  upon  you  what  ho 
would  urge,  were  he  to  speak ;  therefore  Ave  pray  you,  in 
his  stead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God :  we  earnestly  pray  you 
to  be  reconciled;  that  is  the  utmost  which  such  feeble 
worms  as  we  can  do :  we  can  only  pray  aiid  beg,  but  your 
compliance  is  not  within  the  command  of  our  power ;  the 
compliance  belongs  to  you ;  and  remember,  if  you  refuse, 
you  take  it  upon  yourselves,  and  answer  the  consequence." 

■4 


38*  SINNERS  ENTREATED 

"  But  if  your  business  only  lies  with  the  enemies  of  God," 
(you  may  be  ready  to  say,)  "you  have  no  concern  with  me 
in  this  discourse ;  for,  God  forbid  that  I  should  be  an  enemy 
to  him.  I  have  indeed  been  guilty  of  a  great  many  sins, 
but  I  had  no  bad  design  in  them,  and  never  had  the  least 
enmity  against  my  Maker ;  so  far  from  it  that  I  shudder  at 
the  very  thought!"  This  is  the  first  obstacle  that  I  meet 
with  in  discharging  my  embassy ;  the  embassy  itself  is  looked 
upon  as  needless  by  the  persons  concerned,  like  an  attempt 
to  reconcile  those  that  are  good  friends  already.  You  plead 
"not  guilty"  to  the  charge,  and  allege  that  you  have  al- 
ways loved  God ;  but  if  this  be  the  case,  whence  is  it  that 
you  have  afforded  him  so  few  of  your  affectionate  and  warm 
tlioughts  ?  Do  not  your  tenderest  thoughts  dwell  upon  the 
objects  of  your  love  ?  But  has  not  your  mind  been  shy  of 
him  who  gave  you  your  power  of  thinking  ?  Have  not  you 
lived  stupidly  thoughtless  of  hmi  for  days  and  weeks 
together  ?  Nay,  have  not  serious  thoughts  of  him  been  un- 
welcome, and  made  you  uneasy  ?  And  have  you  not  turned 
every  way  to  avoid  them  ? 

Again,  if  you  are  reconciled  to  God,  whence  is  it  that 
you  are  secretly,  or  perhaps  openly,  disaffected  to  his  image, 
I  mean  the  purity  and  strictness  of  his  law,  and  the  linea- 
ments of  holiness  that  appear  upon  the  unfashic)nable  few  ? 
If  you  loved  God,  you  would  of  course  love  every  thing 
that  bears  any  resemblance  to  him.  But  are  you  not  con- 
sciious  that  it  is  otherwise  with  you ;  that  you  murmur  and 
cavil  at  the  restraints  of  God's  law,  and  would  much  rather 
abj  ure  it,  be  free  from  it,  and  live  as  you  list  ?  Again,  if 
you  do  but  reflect  upon  the  daily  sensations  of  your  own 
minds,  must  you  not  be  conscious  that  you  love  other  per- 
sons and  things  more  than  God  ?  that  you  love  pleasure, 
honor,  riches,  your  relations  and  friends,  more  than  the 
glorious  and  ever  blessed  God?  Look  into  your  own 
hearts,  and  you  will  find  it  so :  you  will  find  that  this,  and 
that,  and  a  thousand  things  in  this  world,  engross  more  of 
your  thoughts,  your  cares,  desires,  joys,  sorrows,  hopes, 
and  fears,  than  God,  or  any  of  his  concerns.  Is  it  not  there- 
fore evident,  even  to  your  own  conviction,  that  you  do  not 
love  God  at  all  ?  and  what  is  this  but  to  be  his  enemy  ?  To 
be  inditYerent  towards  him,  as  though  he  were  an  insignifi- 
cant being,  neither  good  nor  evil,  a  mere  cipher;  to  feel 
neither  love  nor  hatred  towards  him,  but  to  neglect  him,  as 


TO   BE   RECONCILED   TO   GOD.  ^9 

if  you  liacl  no  concern  with  Mm  one  way  or  other ;  what  a 
horrible  disposition  is  this  towards  him,  who  is  supremely 
and  infinitely  glorious  and  amiable,  your  Creator,  your 
Sovereign,  and  Benefactor ;  who  therefore  deserves  and  de- 
mands your  highest  love ;  or,  in  the  words  of  his  own  law, 
that  you  should  love  Mm  luith  all  your  heart,  ivith  all  your 
soul,  and  with  all  your  strength. 

From  what  can  such  indifferency  towards  him  proceed 
but  from  disaffection  and  enmity  ?  It  is  in  this  way  that 
the  enmity  of  men  towards  God  most  generally  discovers 
itself  They  feel,  perhaps,  no  positive  workings  of  hatred 
towards  him,  unless  when  their  innate  corruption,  like  an 
exasperated  serpent,  is  irritated  by  conviction  from  his 
law ;  but  they  feel  an  apathy,  a-  listlessness,  an  indifferency 
towards  him ;  and  because  they  feel  no  more,  they  flatter 
themselves  they  are  far  from  hating  him ;  especially  as  they 
may  have  very  honorable  speculative  thoughts  of  him  float- 
ing on  the  surface  of  their  minds.  But  alas  1  this  very  thing, 
this  indifferenc}',  or  listless  neutrality,  is  the  very  core  of 
their  enmity ;  and  if  they  are  thus  indifferent  to  him  now, 
while  enjoying  so  many  blessings  from  his  hand,  and  while 
he  delays  their  punishment,  how  will  their  enmity  swell  and 
rise  to  all  the  rage  of  a  devil  against  him  when  he  puts  forth 
his  vindictive  hand  and  touches  them,  and  so  gives  occasion 
to  it  to  discover  its  venom !  My  soul  shudders  to  think 
what  horrid  insurrections  and  direct  rebellion  this  temper 
will  produce  when  once  irritated,  and  all  restraints  are  ta- 
ken off;  which  will  be  the  doom  of  sinners  in  the  eternal 
world ;  and  then  they  will  have  no  more  of  the  love  of 
God  in  them  than  the  most  malignant  devil  in  hell !  If 
therefore  you  generally  feel  an  indifferency  towards  God, 
be  assured  you  are  not  reconciled  to  him,  but  are  his  ene- 
mies in  your  hearts. 

Ye  rebels  against  the  King  of  heaven!  ye  enemies 
against  my  Lord  and  Master,  Jesus  Christ !  (I  cannot  flat- 
ter you  with  a  softer  name,)  hear  me ;  and  attend  to  the  pro- 
posal I  make  to  you,  not  in  my  own  name,  but  in  the  name 
and  stead  of  your  rightful  Sovereign,  and  that  is,  that  you 
wiir  this  day  be  reconciled  to  God.  That  you  may  know 
what  I  mean,  I  will  more  particularly  explain  this  overture 
to  you. 

If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  must  be  deeply 
sensible  of  the  guilt,  the  wickedness,  the  baseness,  the  in- 


40  SINNEliS   ENTREATED 

exj)ressible  malignity  of  your  enmity  and  rebellion  against 
him.  You  must  return  to  your  rightful  Sovereign  as  con- 
victed, self-condemned,  penitent,  broken-hearted  rebels,  con- 
founded and  ashamed  of  your  conduct,  loathing  yourselves 
because  you  have  loathed  the  Supreme  Excellence,  mourn- 
ing over  yoar  unnatural  disaffection,  your  base  ingratitude, 
your  horrid  rebellion  against  so  good  a  King.  And  what 
do  you  say  to  this  article  of  the  treaty  of  peace  ?  Is  it  a 
hard  thing  for  such  causeless  enemies  to  fall  upon  the  knee, 
and  to  mourn  and  weep  as  prostrate  penitents  at  the  feet  of 
their  injured  Maker?  Is  it  a  hard  thing  for  one  that  has 
all  his  life  been  guilty  of  the  blackest  crimes  upon  earth,  or 
even  in  hell,  I  mean  enmity  against  God,  to  confess  "I  have 
sinned,"  and  to  feel  his  own  confession  ?  to  feel  it,  I  say ; 
for  if  he  does  not  feel  it,  his  confession  is  but  an  empty 
compliment  that  increases  his  guilt. 

Again,  if  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  must  heart- 
ily consent  to  be  reconciled  to  him  in  Christ ;  that  is,  you 
must  come  in  upon  the  footing  of  that  act  of  grace  which  is 
pubhshed  in  the  gospel  through  Christ,  and  expecting  no 
favor  at  all  upon  the  footing  of  your  own  goodness.  The 
merit  of  what  you  call  your  good  actions,  of  your  repent- 
ance, your  prayers,  your  acts  of  charity  and  justice,  must 
all  pass  for  nothing,  in  this  respect ;  you  must  dej^end  only 
and  entirely  uj^on  the  merit  of  Christ's  obedience  and  sufi'er- 
ings  as  the  ground  of  your  acceptance  with  God;  and  hope 
for  forgiveness  and  favor  from  his  mere  mercy  bestowed 
upon  you,  only  for  the  sake  of  Christ,  or  on  account  of  what 
he  has  done  and  suffered  in  the  stead  of  sinners.  It  does 
not  consist  with  the  dignity  and  perfections  of  the  King  of 
heaven  to  receive  rebels  into  favor  upon  any  other  footing. 
I  would  have  you  consent  to  every  article  of  the  overtiu-e 
as  I  go  along ;  and  therefore  here  again  I  make  a  pause  to 
ask  you,  What  do  you  think  of  this  article  ?  Are  you  will- 
ing to  comply  with  it,  willing  to  come  into  favor  with  God, 
as  convicted,  self-condemned  rebels,  upon  an  act  of  gTaco 
procured  by  the  righteousness  of  Christ  alone  ?  Can  it  be  a 
mortification  to  you  to  renounce  what  you  have  not,  and  to 
OAvn  yourselves  guilty,  and  utterly  unworth}^,  Avhen  jo\x:  are 
really  such  ?  O !  may  I  not  expect  your  compliance  with 
this  term  of  reconciliation  ? 

Again,  if  you  Avould  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  must  en- 
gage yourselves  in  his  service  for  the  futiu^e,  and  devote 


TO   BE   RECONCILED   TO    GOD.  41 

yourselves  to  do  his  Avill.  His  law  must  be  the  rule  of  your 
temper  and  practice:  wliatever  lie  commands,  you  must 
honestly  endeavor  to  perform,  without  exception  of  any  one 
duty  as  disagreeable  and  laborious ;  and  Avhatever  he  for- 
bids, you  must,  for  that  reason,  abstain  from,  however  plea- 
sing, advantageous,  or  fashionable.  You  must  no  longer 
look  upon  yourselves  as  your  own,  but  as  bought  with  a 
price,  and  therefore  bound  to  glorify  God  with  your  souls 
and  your  bodies,  which  are  his.  0 !  can  you  make  any 
difficulty  of  complying  with  this  term  ?  If  not,  you  will 
return  home  this  day  reconciled  to  God ;  a  happiness  you 
have  never  yet  enjoy e^l  for  one  moment. 

Finally,  if  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  must  break 
off  all  friendship  with  his  enemies ;  your  friendship  with  the 
world,  I  mean  your  attachment  to  its  fashions  and  customs, 
and  your  fondness  for  its  rebellious  inhabitants,  who  con- 
tinue enemies  to  God ;  your  love  of  guilty  pleasures,  and 
every  form  of  sin,  however  pleasing  or  gainful  you  might 
imagine  it  to  be.  As  long  as  you  are  resolved  to  love  the 
world,  to  keep  up  your  society  with  your  old  companions 
in  sin,  to  retain  your  old  pleasures  and  evil  practices ;  as 
long,  I  say,  as  you  are  resolved  upon  this  course,  farewell 
all  hope  of  your  reconciliation  to  God :  it  is  absolutely  im- 
possible. And  do  any  of  you  hesitate  at  this  article  ?  Is 
sin  so  noble  a  thing  in  itself,  and  so  happy  in  its  conse- 
quences, as  that  you  should  be  so  loth  to  part  with  it  ?  Is 
it  so  sweet  a  thing  to  you  to  sin  against  God,  that  you  know 
not  how  to  forbear  ?  Alas !  will  you  rather  be  an  impla- 
cable enemy  to  the  God  that  made  you,  than  break  your 
league  with  his  enemies  and  your  own  ?  Do  you  love  your 
sins  so  well,  and  are  you  so  obliged  to  them,  that  you  will 
lay  down  your  life,  your  eternal  life,  for  their  sakes. 

I  might  multiply  particulars,  but  these  are  the  principal 
articles  of  that  treaty  of  peace  I  am  negotiating  with  you, 
and  a  consent  to  these  includes  a  com23liance  to  all  the  rest. 
And  are  you  determined  to  comply  ?  Does  the  heaven-born 
purpose  now  rise  in  your  minds,  "  I  am  determined  I  will 
be  an  enemy  to  God  no  longer ;  but  this  very  day  I  will  be 
reconciled  to  God  on  his  own  terms !"  Is  this  your  fixed 
purpose?  or  is  there  any  occasion  to  pray  and  persuade 
you? 

I  well  know,  and  it  is  fit  you  should  know,  that  you  are 
not  able  of  yourselves  to  consent  to  these  terms,  but  that  it 

4^ 


4:2  SINNEKS   E>;  TREATED 

is  tlie  work  of  the  jjower  of  God  alone  to  reconcile  you  to 
himself;  and  all  ni}^  persuasions  and  entreaties  will  never 
make  you  either  able  or  willing.  You  will  then  ask  me, 
perhaps,  "  Wh}^  do  I  propose  the  terms  to  you,  or  use  any 
persuasives  or  entreaties  with  you?"  I  answer,  because 
you  never  will  be  sensible  of  your  inability  till  you  make 
an  honest  trial,  and  because  you  never  will  look  and  pray 
for  the  aid  of  the  blessed  Spirit  till  you  are  deeply  sensible 
of  your  own  insufficiency ;  and  fui'ther,  because,  if  the  blessed 
Spirit  should  ever  effectually  work  upon  you,  it  will  be  by 
enlightening  your  understandings  to  see  the  reasonableness 
of  the  terms,  and  the  force  of  the  persuasives ;  and  in  this 
way,  agreeably  to  your  reasonable  natures,  sweetly  constrain- 
ing your  obstinate  wills  to  yield  yourselves  to  God ;  therefore 
the  terms  must  be  proposed  to  you,  and  persuasives  used, 
if  I  would  be  subservient  to  this  divine  agent,  and  furnish 
him  with  materials  with  which  to  work ;  and  I  have  some 
little  hope  that  he  will,  as  it  were,  catch  my  feeble  words 
from  my  lips  before  they  vanish  into  air,  and  bear  them 
home  to  your  hearts  with  a  power  which  you  will  not  be 
able  to  resist.  Therefore,  notwithstanding  your  utter  impo- 
tence, I  must  pray,  entreat,  and  persuade  you  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  God.  I  pray  you,  in  the  name  of  the  great  God 
your  heavenly  Father,  and  of  Jesus  Christ  your  Eedeemer. 
In  the  name  of  God  I  pray  you ;  the  name  of  the  greatest 
and  best  of  beings ;  that  name  which  angels  love  and  adore, 
and  which  strikes  terror  through  the  hardest  devil  in  the 
infernal  regions  ;  the  name  of  your  Father ;  the  immediate 
Father  of  your  spirits,  and  the  Author  of  your  mortal 
frames ;  the  name  of  your*  Preserver  and  Benefactor,  in 
whom  you  live,  and  move,  and  have  your  being ;  the  name 
of  your  Supreme  Judge,  who  will  ascend  the  tribunal,  and 
acquit  or  condemn  you,  as  he  finds  you  friends  or  foes  ;  the 
name  of  that  God,  rich  in  goodness,  who  has  replenished 
heaven  with  an  infinite  plenitude  of  happiness  in  which  he 
will  allow  you  to  share  after  all  your  hostility  and  rebellion, 
if  you  consent  to  the  overture  of  reconciliation ;  in  the  God 
of  terrible  majesty  and  justice,  who  has  prepared  the  dun- 
geon of  hell  as  a  prison  for  his  enemies,  where  he  holds  in 
chains  the  mighty  powers  of  darkness,  and  thousands  of  our 
race,  who  persisted  in  that  enmity  to  him  of  which  you  are 
now  guilty,  and  with  whom  you  must  have  your  everlast- 
ing portion,  if,  like  them,  you  continue  hardened  and  in- 


TO   BE   KECONCILED   TO   GOD.  43 

corrigible  in  your  rebellion  ;  in  the  name  of  that  compas- 
sionate God,  who  sent  his  dear  Son  to  satisfy  divine  justice 
for  you  by  his  death,  and  the  precepts  of  the  law  by  his  life, 
and  thus  to  remove  all  obstructions  out  of  the  way  of  jowr 
reconciUation  on  the  part  of  Grod ;  in  this  great,  this  endear- 
ing and  tremendous  name,  I  pray  you  be  reconciled  to 
God. 

I  pray  you,  both  in  the  name  and  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ,  the  true  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners,  in  his  name, 
and  for  his  sake,  who  assumed  our  degraded  nature,  that 
he  might  dignify  and  save  it ;  who  lived  a  life  of  labor, 
poverty,  and  persecution  upon  earth,  that  you  might  enjoy 
a  life  of  everlasting  happiness  and  glory  in  heaven  ;  who 
died  upon  a  torturing  cross,  that  you  might  sit  u]3on  heavenly 
thrones ;  who  was  imprisoned  in  the  gloomy  gi^ave,  that  you 
might  enjoy  a  glorious  resurrection ;  who  fell  a  victim  to 
divine  justice,  that  you  might  be  set  free  from  its  dreadful 
arrest ;  who  felt  trouble  and  agony  of  soul,  that  you  might 
enjoy  the  smiles,  the  pleasures  of  Divine  Love;  who,  in 
short,  has  discovered  more  ardent  and  extensive  love  for 
you  than  all  the  friends  in  the  world  can  do ;  in  his  name, 
and  for  his  sake,  I  pray  you  to  be  reconciled  to  God.  And 
is  this  dear  name  a  trifle  in  your  esteem  ?  Will  you  not  do 
any  thing  so  reasonable  and  so  necessary,  and  conducive  to 
your  happiness  for  his  sake — for  his  sake  who  has  done  and 
suffered  so  much  for  vou  ?  Alas !  has  the  name  of  Jesus 
no  more  influence  among  the  creatures  he  bought  with  his 
blood !  It  is  hard  indeed  if  I  beg  in  vain,  when  I  beg  for 
the  sake  of  Christ,  the  Friend,  the  Saviour  of  perishing 
souls.  But  if  you  have  no  regard  for  him,  you  certainly 
have  for  yourselves ;  therefore,  for  your  own  sakes,  for  the 
sake  of  your  precious  immortal  souls,  for  the  sake  of  youx 
own  everlasting  happiness,  I  pray  you  to  be  reconciled  to ' 
God.  If  you  refuse,  you  degrade  the  honor  of  your  nature, 
and  commence  incarnate  devils.  For  what  is  the  grand 
constituent  of  a  devil,  but  enmity  against  God  ?  You  be- 
come the  refuse  of  creation,  fit  for  no  apartment  of  the  uni- 
verse but  the  prison  of  hell.  While  you  are  unreconciled  to 
God  you  can  do  nothing  at  all  to  please  him.  He  that 
searches  the  heart  knows  that  even  your  good  actions  do  not 
proceed  from  love  to  him,  and  therefore  he  abhors  them. 
Ten  thousand  prayers  and  acts  of  devotion  and  morality, 
as  you  have  no  principles  of  real  holiness,  are  so  many  prov- 


44  SINNEES   ENTREATED 

ocations  to  a  rigliteous  God.  While  you  refuse  to  be  rec- 
onciled, you  are  accessary  to,  and  patronize  all  the  rebel- 
lion of  men  and  devils ;  for  if  you  have  a  right  to  continue 
in  your  rebellion,  why  may  not  others?  Why  may  not 
every  man  upon  earth?  Why  may  not  every  miserable 
ghost  in  the  infernal  regions  ?  And  are  you  for  raising  a 
universal  mutiny  and  rebellion  against  the  throne  of  the 
Most  High  ?  0  the  inexpressible  horror  of  the  thought !  If 
you  refuse  to  be  reconciled,  you  will  soon  weary  out  the  mer- 
cy and  patience  of  God  towards  you,  and  he  will  come  forth 
against  you  in  all  the  terrors  of  an  Almighty  enemy.  He 
will  give  death  a  commission  to  seize  you,  and  drag  you  to 
his  flaming  tribunal.  He  will  break  off  the  treaty,  and  never 
make  one  offer  of  reconciliation  more ;  he  will  strip  jou  of 
all  the  enjoyments  he  was  pleased  to  lend  you,  while  you 
were  under  a  reprieve,  and  the  treaty  was  not  come  to  a 
final  issue ;  and  will  leave  you  nothing  but  bare  being,  and 
an  extensive  capacity  of  misery,  which  will  be  filled  up  to 
the  uttermost  from  the  vials  of  his  indignation.  He  will  re- 
prove you,  and  set  your  sins  in  order  before  you,  and  tear 
you  in  pieces,  and  there  shall  be  none  to  deliver.  He  will 
meet  you  as  a  lion,  "  and  as  a  bear  bereaved  of  her  whelps, 
and  will  rend  the  caul  of  your  hearts."  He  hath  for  a  long 
time  held  his  peace,  and  endured  your  rebellion ;  but  ere 
long  he  will  go  forth  as  a  mighty  man ;  he  will  stir  up 
jealousy  like  a  man  of  war ;  he  shall  cry,  yea,  roar  ;  he  shall 
prevail  against  his  enemies.  Ah !  he  will  ease  him  of  his 
adversaries;  and  avenge  him  of  his  enemies.  He  will  give 
orders  to  the  executioners  of  his  justice :  These  mine  enemies, 
that  would  not  that  I  should  reign  over  them,  hring  them  hither, 
and  slay  them  before  me.  And  now  if  you  will  not  submit 
to  peace,  prepare  to  meet  your  God,  O  sinners ;  gird  up  your 
loins  hke  men ;  put  on  the  terror  of  your  rage,  and  go  forth 
to  meet  your  Almighty  adversary,  who  will  soon  meet  you 
in  the  field,  and  try  your  strength.  Call  the  legions  of  hell 
to  your  aid,  and  strengthen  the  confederacy  Avith  all  jowt  fel- 
low-sinners upon  earth  ;  put  briers  and  thorns  around  you 
to  inclose  from  his  reach.  Prepare  the  dry  stubble  to  op- 
2:)ose  devouring  flame.  Associate  yourselves,  but  ye  shall 
be  broken  in  pieces ;  gird  yourselves ;  but  alas  !  ye  shall  be 
broken  to  pieces. 

But,  0  !  I  must  drop  this  ironical  challenge,  and  seriously 
pray  you  to  make  peace  with  him  whom  you  cannot  resist : 


THE   NATURE   OF   SPIRITUAL   DEATH.  45 

tlien  all  your  past  rebellion  will  be  forgiven  ;  yon  shall  be 
tlie  favorites  of  yonr  Sovereign  and  happy  for  ever ;  and 
earth  and  heaven  will  rejoice  at  the  conclusion  of  this  blessed 
peace ;  and  my  now  sad  heart  will  share  in  the  joy.  There- 
fore, for  your  own  sakes,  I  pray  you  to  be  reconciled  to 
God. 


■♦  ♦ » 


IV. 

THE  NATURE  AND  UNIVERSALITY  OF  SPIRITUAL  DEATH. 

"  Who  were  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins, . . .  even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins.'' 
Ephes.  ii.  1,  5. 

There  is  a  kind  of  death  which  we  all  expect  to  feel,  that 
carries  terror  in  the  sound,  and  all  its  circumstances  are 
shocking  to  nature.  The  ghastly  countenance,  the  convul- 
sive agonies,  the  expiring  groan,  the  coffin,  the  grave,  the 
devouring  worai,  the  stupor,  the  insensibility,  the  universal 
inactivity,  these  strike  a  damp  to  the  spirit,  and  we  turn 
pale  at  the  thought.  With  such  objects  as  these  in  view, 
courage  fails,  levity  looks  serious,  presumption  is  dashed,  the 
cheerful  passions  sink,  and  all  is  solemn,  all  is  melancholy. 
The  most  stupid  and  hardy  sinner  cannot  but  be  moved  to 
see  these  things  exemplified  in  others ;  and  when  he  cannot 
avoid  the  prospect,  he  is  shocked  to  think  that  he  himself 
must  feel  them. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  death,  little  regarded  indeed, 
little  feared,  little  lamented,  which  is  infinitely  more  terrible 
— the  death,  not  of  the  body,  but  of  the  soul :  a  death  which 
does  not  stupefy  the  limbs,  but  the  faculties  of  the  mind :  a 
death  which  does  not  separate  the  soul  and  body,  and  con- 
sign the  latter  to  the  grave,  but  that  separates  the  soul  from 
God,  excludes  it  from  the  joys  of  his  presence,  and  delivers 
it  over  to  everlasting  misery :  a  tremendous  death  indeed ! 
"  A  death  imto  death."  And  this  is  the  death  meant  in  my 
text,  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins. 

To  explain  the  context  and  show  you  the  connection  I 
shall  make  two  short  remarks. 

The  one  is.  That  the  apostle  had  observed  in  the  nine- 
teenth and  twentieth  verses  of  the  foregoing  chapter,  that 


46  THE   NATUEE   AXD   UNIVERSALITY 

the  same  Almighty  power  of  God,  that  raised  Christ  from  the 
dead,  is  exerted  to  enable  a  sinner  to  believe.  We  believe, 
says  he,  accordinrj  to  the  luorhing^  or  energy,  of  his  Almighty 
2)ower  lohich  he  ivrought  in  Ghrist,  iuh.en  he  raised  him 
from  the  dead.  The  one  as  well  as  the  other  is  an  exploit  of 
Omnipotence.  The  exceeding  greatness  of  his  mighty  power 
is  exerted  towards  us  who  believe,  as  well  as  it  was  upon 
the  dead  body  of  Christ  to  restore  it  to  life,  after  it  had  been 
torn  and  mangled  upon  the  cross,  and  lain  three  days  and 
three  nights  in  the  grave.  What  strong  language  is  this  ! 
what  a  forcible  illustration !  Methinks  this  passage  alone 
is  sufficient  to  confound  all  the  vanity  and  self-sufficiency 
of  mortals,  and  entirely  destroy  the  proud  fiction  of  a  self- 
sprung  faith  produced  by  the  efforts  of  degenerate  nature. 
In  my  text  the  apostle  assigns  the  reason  of  this :  the  same 
exertion  of  the  same  power  is  necessary  in  the  one  case  and 
the  other ;  because  as  the  body  of  Christ  was  dead,  and  had 
no  principle  of  life  in  it,  so,  says  he,  ye  loere  dead  in  trespasses 
and  sins,  and  therefore  could  no  more  quicken  yourselves 
than  a  dead  body  can  restore  itself  to  life.  But  God,  ivho 
is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his  great  love  loherewith  he  loved  us  ;  that 
God,  who  raised  the  entombed  Redeemer  to  life  again,  that 
same  Almighty  God,  by  a  like  exertion  of  the  same  power, 
hath  quickened  us,  even  lohen  tve  ivere  dead  in  sins — dead, 
senseless,  inactive,  and  incapable  of  animating  ourselves. 

The  other  remark  is,  that  the  apostle,  having  pronounced 
the  Ephesians  dead  in  sin,  A\^hile  unconverted,  in  the  first 
verse,  passes  the  same  sentence  upon  himself,  and  the  whole 
body  of  the  Jews,  notwithstanding  their  high  privileges,  iji 
the  fifth  verse.  The  sense  and  connection  may  be  discov- 
ered in  the  following  paraphrase :  "  You  Ephesians  were 
very  lately  heathens,  and,  while  you  were  in  that  state,  you 
were  spiritually  dead,  and  all  your  actions  were  dead  works. 
In  time  past  ye  walked  in  trespasses  and  sins ;  nor  were  you 
singular  in  your  course ;  though  it  be  infinitely  pernicious, 
yet  it  is  the  common  course  of  this  world,  and  it  is  also 
agreeable  to  the  temper  and  instigation  of  that  gloomy 
prince  who  has  a  peculiar  power  in  the  region  of  the  air, 
that  malignant  spirit  who  works  with  dreadful  efficacy  in 
the  numerous  children  of  disobedience ;  but  this  was  not  the 
case  of  you  heathens  alone :  we  also,  who  are  Jews,  notwith- 
standing  our  many  religious  advantages,  and  even  I  myself, 
notwithstanding  my  high  privileges  and  unblemishable  life 


OF   SPIRITUAL    DEATH.  4:f 

as  a  Pharisee,  we  also,  I  say,  had  our  conversation  in  times 
past  among  the  children  of  disobedience ;  we  all,  as  well  as 
they,  walked  in  the  lusts  of  the  flcvsh,  fulfilling  the  desires 
and  inclinations  of  our  sensual  flesh,  and  of  our  depraved 
minds ;  for  these  were  tainted  with  spiritual  wickedness,  in- 
dependent of  our  animal  passions  and  appetites ;  but  y/hen 
we  were  all  dead  in  sins,  when  Jews  and  Gentiles  were 
equally  dead  to  God,  then,  even  then,  God  who  is  rich  in 
mercy,  had  pity  upon  us ;  he  quickened  us ;  he  inspired  us 
with  a  new  and  spu^itual  life  by  his  own  Almighty  power, 
which  raised  the  dead  body  of  Christ  from  the  grave.  He 
quickened  us  together  with  Christ:  we  received  our  life  by 
virtue  of  our  union  with  him  as  our  vital  head,  who  was 
raised  to  an  immortal  life,  that  he  might  quicken  dead  souls 
by  those  influences  of  his  Spirit,  which  he  purchased  by  his 
death;  and  therefore  by  grace  are  ye  saved.  It  is  the 
purest,  richest,  freest  grace  that  ever  such  dead  souls  as 
we  were  made  alive  to  God,  and  not  suffered  to  remain  dead 
for  ever." 

This  is  the  obvious  meaning  and  connection  of  these 
verses ;  and  we  now  proceed  to  consider  the  text,  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins.  A  dismal,  mortifying  character !  "  This 
one  place,^'  says  Beza,  "  like  a  thunderbolt,  dashes  all  man- 
kind down  to  the  dust,  great  and  proud  as  they  are  ;  for  it 
pronounces  their  nature  not  only  hurt  but  dead  by  sin,  and 
therefore  liable  to  wrath." 

Death  is  a  state  of  insensibility  and  inactivity,  and  a  dead 
man  is  incapable  of  restoring  himself  to  life ;  therefore  the 
condition  of  an  unconverted  sinner  must  have  some  resem- 
blance to  such  a  state,  in  order  to  support  the  bold  metaphor 
here  used  by  the  apostle.  The  metaphor,  however,  must  be 
understood  with  several  limitations  or  exceptions ;  for  it  is 
certain  there  is  a  wide  difference  between  the  spiritual  death 
of  the  soul,  and  the  natural  death  of  the  body,  particularly 
in  this  respect,  that  death  puts  an  entire  end  to  all  the  pow- 
ers, actions,  and  sensations  of  our  animal  nature  universally, 
with  regard  to  all  objects  of  every  kind ;  but  a  soul  dead  in 
sin  is  only  partially  dead,  that  is,  it  is  dead  only  with  re- 
gard to  a  certain  kind  of  sensations  and  exercises,  but  in  the 
mean  time  it  may  be  all  life  and  activity  about  other  things. 
It  is  alive,  sensible,  and  vigorous  about  earthly  objects  and 
pursuits ;  these  raise  its  passions  and  engage  its  thoughts. 
It  has  also  a  dreadful  power  and  faculty  of  sinning.     It  can 


48  THE   NATURE   AND   UNIVERSALITY 

likewise  exercise  its  intellectual  powers,  and  make  consider- 
able improvements  in  science.  A  sinner  dead  in  trespasses 
and  sins  may  be  a  living  treasury  of  knowledge,  a  univer- 
sal scholar,  a  profound  philosopher,  and  even  a  great  divine, 
as  far  as  mere  speculative  knowledge  can  render  him  such ; 
nay,  he  is  capable  of  many  sensations  and  impressions  from 
religious  objects,  and  of  performing  all  the  external  duties 
of  religion.  He  is  able  to  read,  to  hear,  to  meditate  upon 
divine  things ;  nay,  he  may  be  an  instructor  of  others,  and 
preach  perhaps  with  extensive  popularity ;  he  may  have  a 
form  of  godliness,  and  obtain  a  name  to  live  among  men ;  he 
is  in  some  measure  able,  and  it  is  his  duty  to  attend  upon  the 
means  God  has  instituted  for  quickening  him  with  spiritual 
life,  and  God  deals  with  him  as  with  a  rational  creature, 
by  laws,  sanctions,  promises,  expostulations,  and  invitations. 
But,  notwithstanding  all  these  concessions,  it  is  a  melancholy 
truth  that  an  unregenerate  sinner  is  dead.  Though  he  can 
commit  sin  with  greediness,  though  he  is  capable  of  animal 
actions  and  secular  pursuits,  nay,  though  he  can  employ  his 
mind  even  about  intellectual  and  s^^iritual  things,  and  is  ca- 
pable of  performing  the  external  duties  of  religion,  yet  there 
is  something  in  religion  with  regard  to  which  he  is  entirely 
dead :  there  is  a  kind  of  spiritual  life  of  which  he  is  entirely 
destitute :  he  is  habitually  insensible  with  regard  to  things 
divine  and  eternal:  he  has  no  activity,  no  vigor  in  the 
pure,  spiritual,  and  vital  exercises  of  religion :  he  is  desti- 
tute of  those  sacred  affections,  that  joy,  that  love,  that  de- 
sire, that  hope,  that  fear,  that  sorrow,  which  are,  as  it 
were,  the  innate  passions  of  the  man.  In  short,  he  is  so 
inactive,  so  listless,  so  insensible  in  these  respects,  that 
death,  which  puts  an  end  to  all  action  and  sensation,  is  a 
proper  emblem  of  his  state ;  and  this  is  the  meaning  of  the 
apostle  in  my  text.  He  is  also  utterly  unable  to  quicken 
himself.  He  may,  indeed,  use  means  of  some  sort ;  but  to 
implant  a  vital  principle  in  his  soul,  to  give  himself  vivid 
sensations  of  divine  things,  and  make  himself  alive  towards 
God ;  this  is  entirely  beyond  his  utmost  ability ;  this  is  as 
peculiarly  the  work  of  Almighty  power  as  the  resurrection 
of  the  dead  body  from  the  grave. 

As  to  this  death,  it  is  brought  upon  him  by,  and  consists 
in,  tresi^asses  and  sins.  The  innate  depravity  and  corrup- 
tion of  the  heart,  and  the  habits  of  sin  contracted  and  con- 
firmed by  repeated  indulgences  of  inbred  corruption,  these 


OF   SPIRITUAL   DEATH.  49 

are  the  poisonous,  deadly  tilings  that  have  slain  the  soul ; 
these  *have  entirely  indisposed  and  disabled  it  for  living 
religion.  Trespasses  and  sins,  are  the  grave,  the  corrupt 
effluvia,  the  malignant  damps,  the  rottenness  of  a  dead 
soal :  it  lies  dead,  senseless,  inactive,  buried  in  trespasses 
and  sins, 

I  have  no  scruple  at  all  to  pronounce,  not  only  from  the 
authority  of  an  apostle,  but  from  the  evidence  of  the  thing, 
that  I,  and  all  around  me,  yea,  and  all  the  sons  of  men, 
have  been  dead ;  in  the  spiritual  sense,  utterly  dead.  Mul- 
titudes among  us,  yea,  the  generality,  are  dead  still ;  hence 
the  stupor,  the  carelessness,  about  eternal  things,  the 
thoughtless  neglect  of  God,  the  insensibility  under  his 
providential  dispensations,  the  impenitence,  the  presump- 
tion that  so  much  prevail. 

If  you  would  know  my  design  in  choosing  this  subject, 
it  is  partly  for  the  conviction  of  sinners,  that  they  may  be 
alarmed  with  their  deplorable  condition,  which  is  the  first 
step  towards  their  being  quickened;  partly  to  rouse  the 
children  of  grace  to  seek  more  life  from  their  vital  head  ; 
and  partly  to  display  the  rich  grace  of  God  in  quickening 
such  dead  sinners,  and  bestowing  upon  them  a  spiritual  and 
immortal  life ;  if  I  may  but  answer  these  ends,  it  will  be 
an  unspeakable  blessing  to  us  all.  And  oh,  that  divine 
grace  may  honor  this  humble  attempt  of  a  poor  creature, 
at  best  but  half  alive,  with  success !  I  hope,  my  brethren, 
you  will  hear  seriously,  for  it  is  really  a  most  serious  sub- 
ject. You  have  seen  that  the  metaphorical  expression  in 
my  text  is  intended  to  represent  the  stupidity,  inactivity, 
and  impotence  of  unregenerate  sinners  about  divine  things. 
This  truth  I  might  confirm  by  argument  and  Scripture 
authority;  but  I  think  it  may  be  a  better  method  for 
popular  conviction  to  prove  and  illustrate  it  from  plain 
instances  of  the  temper  and  conduct  of  sinners  about  the 
concerns  of  religion.     And, 

I.  Consider  the  excellency  of  the  divine  Being,  the  sum 
total,  the  great  original  of  all  perfections.  How  infinitely 
worthy  is  he  of  the  adoration  of  all  his  creatures !  how  de- 
serving of  their  most  intense  thoughts  and  most  ardent 
affections !  if  happiness  has  charms  that  draw  all  the  world 
after  it,  here  is  an  unbounded  ocean  of  happiness ;  here  is 
the  only  complete  portion  for  an  immortal  mind.  Men 
are  affected  with  created  excellencies.     AVhence  is  it,  then, 

5 


50  THE   NATURE  AND   UNIVERSALITY 

that  they  are  so  stupidly  unaffected  with  the  supreme  ori- 
ginal excellencies  of  Jehovah  ?  Here,  turn  your  eyes  in- 
ward upon  yourselves,  and  inquire,  are  you  not  conscious 
that,  though  you  have  passions  for  other  objects,  and  are 
easily  moved  by  them,  yet,  with  regard  to  the  perfections 
of  the  supreme  and  best  of  beings,  your  hearts  are  habit- 
ually senseless  and  unaffected?  In  other  cases  you  can 
love  what  appears  amiable,  you  revere  what  is  great  and 
majestic,  you  eagerly  desire  and  pursue  what  is  valuable, 
and  tends  to  your  happiness ;  and  all  this  you  do  freely, 
spontaneously,  vigorously,  by  the  innate  inclination  and 
tendency  of  your  nature,  without  reluctance,  without  com- 
pulsion, nay,  without  persuasion ;  but,  as  to  God  and  all 
his  perfections,  you  are  strangely  insensible,  backward,  and 
averse.  Where  is  there  one  being  that  has  any  confessed 
excellency  in  the  compass  of  human  knowledge,  that  does 
not  engage  more  of  the  thoughts  and  affections  of  mankind 
than  the  glorious  and  ever-blessed  God  ?  The  sun,  moon, 
and  stars  have  had  more  worshipers  than  the  uncreated 
fountain  of  light  from  which  they  derive  their  lustre. 
Kings  and  ministers  of  state  have  more  punctual  homage 
and  frequent  applications  made  to  them  than  the  King  of 
kings,  and  Lord  of  lords.  Search  all  the  world  over  and 
you  will  find  but  very  little  motions  of  heart  towards  God ; 
little  love,  little  desire,  little  searching  after  him.  You 
will  often,  indeed,  see  him  honored  with  the  compliment 
of  a  bended  knee,  and  a  few  heartless  words,  under  the 
name  of  a  prayer ;  but  where  is  the  heart,  where  are  the 
thoughts,  where  the  affections  ?  These  run  wild  through 
the  world,  and  are  scattered  among  a  thousand  other  ob- 
jects. "  Lord !  what  is  this  that  has  seized  the  souls  of 
thine  own  offspring,  that  are  thus  utterly  disordered  to- 
wards thee!"  The  reason  is,  they  are  dead,  dead  in  tres- 
passes and  sins.  Yes,  sinners,  this  is  the  melancholy  reason 
why  you  are  so  thoughtless,  so  unconcerned,  so  senseless 
about  the  God  that  made  you ;  you  are  dead.  The  care- 
lessness and  indispositiofl  of  the  soul  towards  the  supreme 
Excellence  will  appear  yet  more  evident  and  astonishing, 
if  we  consider, 

II.  The  august  and  endearing  relations  the  great  and 
blessed  God  sustains  to  us,  and  the  many  ways  he  has. 
taken  to  make  dutiful  and  gTateful  impressions  upon  our 
hearts.     What  tender  endearments  are  there  contained  in 


OF   SPIRITUAL   DEATH.  51 

the  relation  of  a  Father !  It  is  but  a  little  Avliile  since  we^ 
came  from  his  creating  hand,  and  yet  we  have  forgotten 
him.  It  seems  unnatural  for  his  own  offspring  to  inquire, 
"  Where  is  God  my  maker  ?"  They  show  no  fondness  for 
him,  no  affectionate  veneration,  and  no  humble  conlidence ; 
their  hearts  are  dead  towards  him,  as  though  there  were 
no  such  being,  or  no  such  near  relation  subsisting  between 
them.  In  childhood  a  rattle,  or  a  straw,  or  any  trifle,  is 
more  thought  of  than  their  heavenly  Father :  in  riper  years 
their  vain  pleasures  and  secular  pursuits  command  more 
of  their  affections  than  tlieir  divine  original  and  only  hap- 
piness. 

But  this  relation  of  a  Father  is  not  the  only  relation  our 
God  sustains  to  you ;  he  is  your  supreme  king,  to  whom 
you  owe  allegiance ;  your  lawgiver,  whose  will  is  the  rule 
of  your  conduct ;  and  your  judge,  who  will  call  you  to  an 
account,  and  reward  or  punish  you  according  to  your 
works :  but  how  unnatural  is  it  to  men  to  revere  the  most 
high  God  under  these  august  characters  !  Where  is  there 
a  king  upon  earth,  however  weak  or  tyrannical,  but  is  more 
regarded  by  his  subjects  than  the  King  of  heaven  by  the 
generality  of  men  ?  Were  ever  such  excellent  laws  con- 
temned and  violated  ?  Did  ever  criminals  treat  their  judge 
with  so  much  neglect  and  contempt  ?  And  are  these  souls 
alive  to  God  who  thus  treat  him?  No.  Alas !  "  they  are 
dead  in  trespasses  and  sins." 

God  is  also  our  guardian  and  deliverer ;  and  from  how 
many  dangers  has  he  preserved  us !  from  how  many  ca- 
lamities has  he  delivered  us!  Dangers,  distresses,  and 
deaths  crowd  upon  us,  and  surround  us  in  every  age  and 
every  place :  the  air,  the  earth,  the  sea,  and  every  element, 
are  pregnant  with  numberless  principles  of  pain  and  death, 
reacLy  to  seize  and  destroy  us ;  sickness  and  death  swarm 
around  us ;  nay,  they  lie  in  ambush  in  our  own  constitu- 
tions and  are  perpetually  undermining  our  lives,  and  yet 
our  divine  guardian  preserves  us  for  months  and  years  un- 
hurt, untouched;  or,  if  he  suffers  the  calamity  to  fall,  or 
death  to  threaten,  he  flies  to  our  deliverance :  how  many 
salvations  of  this  kind  has  he  wrought  for  us !  salvations 
from  accidents,  from  sickness,  from  pain,  from  sorrow,  from 
death;  salvations  in  infancy,  in  youth,  and  in  mature 
years !  These  things  we  cannot  deny  without  the  most 
stupid  ignorance  and  atheistical  disbelief  of  divine  Provi- 


52  THE   NATURE   AND    UNIVERSALITY 

dence.  But  tliougli  God  be  infinitely  superior  to  us,  and 
it  is  nothing  to  liim  what  becomes  of  us,  though  we  have 
rebelled  against  him,  and  deserve  his  veitgeance,  yet  ten 
thousand  deliverances  from  his  hands  have  little  or  no 
effect  upon  the  hearts  of  men :  all  these  cannot  bring  them 
to  think  of  him,  or  love  him  as  much  as  they  do  a  friend, 
or  a  common  benefactor  of  their  own  species.  And  does 
such  stupid  ingratitude  discover  any  spiritual  life  in  them  ? 
No :  they  are  dead  in  this  respect,  though  they  are  all 
alive  to  those  passions  that  terminate  upon  created  objects. 
Further,  Grod  is  the  benefactor  of  mankind,  not  only  in  de- 
livering them  from  dangers  and  calamities,  but  in  bestow- 
ing unnumbered  positive  blessings  upon  them.  Sinful  and 
miserable  as  this  world  is,  it  is  a  treasury  rich  in  blessings, 
a  storehouse  full  of  provisions,  a  dwelling  well  furnished 
for  the  accommodation  of  mortals,  and  all  by  the  care,  and 
at  the  expense  of  that  gracious  God  who  first  made  and 
still  preserves  it  what  it  is.  "Lord,  whence  is  it  then  that 
the  inhabitants  forget  and  neglect  thee,  as  though  they 
were  not  at  all  obliged  to  thee  ?  Oh !  whence  is  it  that 
tliey  love  thy  gifts,  and  yet  disregard  the  giver  ?  that  they 
think  less  of  thee  than  an  earthly  father  or  friend,  or  a 
human  benefactor?"  Surely,  if  they  had  any  life,  any 
sensation  in  this  respect,  they  would  not  be  capable  of  such 
conduct ;  but  they  are  dead,  dead  to  all  the  generous  sen- 
sations of  gratitude  to  God :  and  as  a  dead  corpse  feels  no 
gratitude  to  those  that  perform  the  last  friendly  office,  and 
cover  it  with  earth,  so  a  dead  soul  stands  unmoved  under 
all  the  profusion  of  blessings  which  Heaven  pours  upon  it. 
The  blessings  I  have  mentioned,  which  are  confined  to 
the  present  state,  are  great,  and  deserve  our  wonder  and 
thanksgiving ;  but  what  are  these  in  comparison  of  God's 
gift  of  his  Son,  and  the  blessings  he  has  preached !  You 
can  no  more  find  love  equal  to  this  among  creatures,  than 
you  can  find  among  them  the  infinite  power  that  formed 
the  universe  out  of  nothing.  This  will  stand  upon  record 
to  all  eternity,  as  the  unprecedented,  unparalleled,  inimi- 
table love  of  God.  And  it  appears  the  more  illustrious 
when  we  consider  that  this  unspeakable  gift  was  given  to 
sinners,  to  rebels,  to  enemies,  that  were  so  far  from  deserv- 
ing it,  that,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  a  miracle  of  mercy  that 
they  are  not  all  groaning  for  ever  under  the  tremendous 
weight  of  his  justice.     Oh  !  that  I  could  sav  something  be- 


OF   SPIRITUAL   DEATH.  53 

coming  this  love;  something  that  might  do  honor  to  it! 
but,  alas !  the  language  of  mortals  was  formed  for  lower 
subjects.  This  love  passes  all  description  and  all  knowl- 
edge. 

Consider  also,  what  rich  blessings  Christ  has  purchased 
for  us ;  purchased,  not  with  such  corruptible  things  as  silver 
and  gold,  but  with  his  own  most  precious  blood :  the  price 
recommends  and  endears  the  blessings,  though  thej  are  so 
great  in  themselves  as  to  need  no  recommendation.  What 
can  be  greater  or  more  suitable  blessings  to.  persons  in  our 
circumstances,  than  pardon  for  the  guilty,  redemption  for 
slaves,  righteousness  and  justification  for  the  condemned, 
sanctiiication  for  the  unholy,  rest  for  the  weary,  comfort 
for  the  mom^ners,  everlasting  happiness  for  the  heirs  of 
hell,  and,  to  sum  up  all,  grace  and  glory,  and  every  good 
thing,  and  all  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ  for  the 
wretched  and  miserable,  the  poor,  the  blind  and  naked! 
These  are  blessings  indeed,  and,  in  comparison  of  them, 
the  riches  of  the  world  are  impoverished,  and  vanish  to 
nothing;  and  all  these  blessings  are  published,  offered 
freely,  indefinitely  offered  to  you,  to  me,  to  the  greatest 
sinner  on  earth,  in  the  gospel;  and  we  are  allowed — al- 
lowed did  I  say  ?  we  are  invited  with  the  utmost  impor- 
tunit}^,  entreated  with  the  most  compassionate  tenderness 
■and  condescension,  and  commanded  by  the  highest  au- 
thority, upon  pain  of  eternal  damnation,  to  accept  the  bless- 
ings presented  to  us!  And  what  reception  does  all  this 
love  meet  with  in  our  Avorld?  I  tremble  to  think  of  it. 
It  is  plain  these  things  are  proposed  to  a  world  dead  in 
sin ;  for  they  are  all  still,  all  unmoved,  all  senseless  under 
such  a  revelation  of  infinite  grace;  mankind  know  not 
what  it  is  to  be  moved,  melted,  transported  with  the  love 
of  a  crucified  Saviour,  till  divine  grace  visits  their  hearts, 
and  forms  them  into  new  creatures.  They  feel  no  eager 
solicitude,  nay,  not  so  much  as  a  willingness  to  receive 
these  blessings,  till  they  become  willing  by  Almighty 
power ;  and  judge  ye,  my  brethren,  whether  they  are  not 
dead  souls  that  are  proof  even  against  the  love  of  God  in 
Christ,  that  are  not  moved  and  melted  by  the  agonies  of 
his  cross,  that  are  careless  about  such  inestimable  blessings 
as  these  ?  Has  that  soul  any  spiritual  life  in  it  that  can 
sit  senseless  under  the  cross  of  Jesus,  that  can  forget  him, 
neglect  him,  dishonor  him,  after  all  his  love  and  all  his 

5* 


54  THE   NATURE   AND    UNIVERSALITY 

sufferings ;  tliat  loves  liim  less  than  an  earthly  friend,  and 
seeks  him  with  less  eagerness  than  gold  and  silver  ?  Oh, 
look  round  the  world,  and  what  do  you  see  but  a  general 
ueoiect  of  the  blessed  Jesus,  and  all  the  blessings  of  his 
gospel?  How  cold,  how  untoward,  how  reluctant,  how 
averse  are  the  hearts  of  men  towards  him  ?  how  hard  to 
persuade  them  to  think  of  him  and  love  him  ?  Astonish- 
ing, and  most  lamentable,  that  ever  such  perverseness  and 
stupidity  should  seize  the  soul  of  man !  Methinks  I  could 
here  take  up  a  lamentation  over  human  nature,  and  fall  on 
my  knees  with  this  prayer  for  my  fellow-men,  "  Father  of 
spirits  and  Lord  of  life,  quicken,  oh,  quicken  these  dead 
souls!"  Oh,  sirs,  while  we  see  death  all  around  us,  and 
feel  it  benumbing  our  own  souls,  who  can  help  the  most 
bitter  wailing  and  lamentation !  who  can  restrain  himself 
from  crying  to  the  great  Author  of  life  for  a  happy  resur- 
rection !  While  the  valley  of  dry  bones  lies  before  me, 
while  the  carnage,  the  charnel-house  of  immortal  souls 
strikes  my  sight  all  around  me,  far  and  wdde,  how  can  I 
forbear  crying,  Come  from  the  four  loinds,  oh,  breathe,  hreatlte 
upon  these  slain,  that  they  may  live  I 

I  have  materials  sufEicient  for  a  discourse  of  some  hours ; 
but  at  present  I  must  abruptly  drop  the  subject:  however, 
I  cannot  dismiss  you  without  making  a  few  reflections. 
And — I.  What  a  strange  affecting  view  does  this  subject 
give  us  of  this  assembly !  I  doubt  not  but  I  may  accom- 
modate the  text  to  some  of  you  with  this  agreealDle  addi- 
tion, "  You  hath  he  quickened,  you  who  v/ere  once  dead 
in  trespasses  and  sins."  Though  the  vital  pulse  beats  faint 
and  irregular,  and  your  spiritual  life  is  but  very  low,  yet, 
blessed  be  God,  you  are  not  entirely  dead :  you.  have  some 
living  sensations,  some  lively  and  vigorous  exercises  in 
religion.  On  the  other  hand,  I  doubt  not  that  some  of  you 
not  only  were,  but  still  are,  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins.  It 
is  not  to  be  expected  in  our  world,  at  least  not  before  the 
millennium,  that  we  shall  see  such  a  mixed  company  to- 
gether, and  all  living  souls.  Here,  then,  is  the  difference 
between  you ;  some  of  you  are  spiritually  alive,  and  some 
of  you  are  spiritually  dead :  here  the  living  and  the  dead 
are  blended  together  in  the  same  assembly,  on  the  same 
seat,  and  united  in  the  nearest  relations :  here  sits  a  dead 
soul,  there  another,  and  there  another,  and  a  few  living 
souls  are  scattered  here  and  tliere  anion g:  them:  here  is  a 


OF   SPIRITUAL   DEATH.  55 

dead  parent  and  a  living  child,  or  a  dead  cliild  and  a  living 
parent :  here  life  and  death  are  united  in  the  bonds  of  con- 
jugal love,  and  dwell  under  the  same  roof  Should  I  trace 
the  distinction  beyond  this  assembly  into  the  world,  we 
shall  find  a  family  here  and  there  that  have  a  httle  life ; 
perhaps  one,  perhaps  two,  discover  some  vital  symptoms ; 
but,  oh,  what  crowds  of  dead  families !  all  dead  together, 
and  no  endeavors  used  to  bring  one  another  to  life;  a 
death-like  silence  about  eternal  things;  a  deadly  stupor 
and  insensibility  reign  among  them  ;  they  breathe  out  no 
desires  and  prayers  after  Grod,  nor  does  the  vital  pulse  of 
love  beat  in  their  hearts  towards  him ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
their  souls  are  putrefying  in  sin,  which  is  very  emphatically 
called  corruption  by  the  sacred  writers ;  they  are  overrun 
and  devoured  by  their  lusts,  as  worms  insult  and  destroy 
the  dead  body.  Call  to  them,  they  will  not  awake ;  thun- 
der the  terrors  of  the  Lord  in  their  ears,  they  will  not  hear ; 
offer  them  all  the  blessings  of  the  gospel,  they  will  not 
stretch  out  the  hand  of  faith  to  receive  them ;  lay  the  word 
of  Grod,  the  bread  of  life  before  them,  they  have  no  appetite 
for  it.  In  short,  the  plain  symptoms  of  death  are  upon 
them:  the  animal  is  alive,  but,  alas!  the  spirit  is  dead 
towards  God.  And  what  -an  affecting,  melancholy  view 
does  this  give  of  this  assembly,  and  of  the  world  in  gen- 
eral !  0  that  my  head  were  waters,  and  mine  eyes  fount- 
ains of  tears,  that  I  'ttiight  weep  day  and  night,  for  the  slain 
of  tJie  daughter  of  my  people  !  Weep  not  for  the  afflicted, 
weep  not  over  ghastly  corpses  dissolving  into  their  original 
dust,  but,  oh!  weep  for  dead  souls.  Should  God  now 
strike  all  those  persons  dead  in  this  assembly,  whose  souls. 
are  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  should  he  lay  them  all  in. 
pale  corpses  before  us,  like  Ananias  and  Sapphira  at  the 
apostle's  feet,  what  numbers  of  you  would  never  return 
from  this  house  more,  and  what  lamentations  would  there 
be  among  the  surviving  few !  One  would  lose  a  husband 
or  a  wife,  another  a  son  or  a  daughter,  another  a  father  or 
a  mother ;  alas !  would  not  some  whole  families  be  swept 
off  together,  all  blended  in  one  promiscuous  death !  Such 
a  sight  as  this  would  strike  terror  into  the  hardest  heart 
among  you.  But  what  is  this  to  a  company  of  rational 
spirits  slain  and  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins?  How  de- 
plorable and  inexpressibly  melancholy  a  sight  this !  There- 
fore, 


56          ^  THE   NATUKE   OF   SPIRITUAL   DEATH. 

II.  Awake  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead,  that 
Christ  may  give  thee  light.  This  call  is  directed  to  you, 
dead  sinners,  wliich  is  a  sufficient  warrant  for  me  to  ex- 
hort and  persuade  yOu.  The  principle  of  reason  is  still 
alive  in  you ;  you  are  also  sensible  of  your  own  interest,  and 
feel  the  workings  of  self-love.  It  is  God  alone  that  can 
quicken  you,  but  he  effects  this  by  a  power  that  does  not 
exclude,  but  attends  rational  instructions  and  persuasions 
to  your  understanding.  Therefore,  though  I  am  sure  you 
will  continue  dead  still  if  left  to  yourselves,  yet  with  some 
trembling  hopes  that  his  power  may  accompany  my  feeble 
words  and  impregnate  them  with  life,  I  call  upon,  I  en- 
treat, I  charge  you  sinners  to  rouse  yourselves  out  of  your 
dead  sleep,  and  seek  to  obtain  spiritual  life.  Now,  while 
my  voice  sounds  in  your  ears,  now,  this  moment,  waft  up 
this  prayer,  "Lord,  pity  a  dead  soul,  a  soul  that  has  been 
dead  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  forty  years,  or  more,  and  lain 
Corrupting  in  sin,  and  say  unto  me,  '  Live :'  from  this  mo- 
ment let  me  live  unto  thee."  Let  this  prayer  be  still  upon 
your  hearts ;  keep  your  souls  always  in  a  supplicating  pos- 
ture, and  who  knows  but  that  He  who  raised  Lazarus  from 
the  grave  may  give  you  a  spiritual  resurrection  to  a  more 
important  life  ?  But  if  you  willfully  continue  your  security, 
expect  in  a  little  time  to  suffer  the  second  death ;  the  mor- 
tification will  become  incurable ;  and  then,  though  you  will 
be  still  dead  to  God,  yet  you  will  be  "tremblingly  alive, 
all  over"  to  the  sensations  of  pain  and  torture.  Oh,  that  I 
could  gain  but  this  one  request  of  you,  which  your  own 
interest  so  strongly  enforces !  but,  alas !  it  has  been  so  often 
refused,  that  to  expect  to  prevail  is  to  hope  against  hope. 

III.  Let  the  children  of  God  be  sensible  of  their  gi^eat 
happiness  in  being  made  spiritually  alive.  Life  is  a  prin- 
ciple, a  capacity  necessary  for  enjoyments  of  any  kind. 
Without  animal  life  you  would  be  as  incapable  of  animal 
pleasures  as  a  stone  or  a  clod;  and  without  spiritual  life 
you  can  no  more  enjoy  the  happiness  of  heaven  than  a 
beast  or  a  devil.  This,  therefore,  is  a  preparative,  a  pre- 
vious qualification,  and  a  sure  pledge  and  earnest  of  ever- 
lasting life.  How  highly  then  are  you  distinguished,  and 
what  cause  have  you  for  gratitude  and  praise  ! 

lY.  Let  us  all  be  sensible  of  this  important  truth,  that 
it  is  entirely  by  grace  we  are  saved.  This  is  the  inference 
the  aj)ostlG  expressly  makes  from  this  doctrine :  and  he  is 


THE   NATUKE    OF   SPIRITUAL   LIFE.  57 

SO  full  of  it,  that  lie  throws  it  into  a  parenthesis,  (verse 
5th,)  though  it  breaks  the  connection  of  his  discourse  ;  and 
as  soon  as  he  has  room  he  assumes  it  again,  (verse  8th,)  and 
repeats  it  over  and  over,  in  various  forms,  in  the  compass 
of  a  few  verses.  By  grace  ye  are  saved — By  grace  ye  are 
saved  through  faith — it  is  the  gift  of  God  ; — not  of  j^ourselves 
— not  of  works,  (verse  9th.)  This,  you  see,  is  an  infer- 
ence that  seemed  of  great  importance  to  the  apostle ;  and 
what  can  more  naturally  follow  from  the  premises?  If 
we  were  once  dead  in  sin,  certainly  it  is  owing  to  the  freest 
grace  that  we  have  been  quickened;  therefore,  when  we 
survey  the  change,  let  us  cry,   "  Grace,  grace  unto  it." 


V.  • 

THE  NATURE  AND  PROCESS  OF  SPIRITUAL  LIFE. 

"  But  God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  ua, 
even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins,  hath  quickened  us  together  with  Christ." 
— Ephes.  ii.  4,  5. 

It  is  not  my  usual  method  to  weary  your  attention  by  a 
long  confinement  to  one  subject ;  and  our  religion  furnishes 
us  with  such  a  boundless  variety  of  important  topics,  that 
a  minister  who  makes  them  his  study  will  find  no  tempt- 
ation to  cloy  you  with  repetitions,  but  rather  finds  it  difii- 
cult  to  speak  so  concisely  on  one  subject  as  to  leave  room 
for  others  of  equal  importance;  however,  the  subject  of 
my  last  discourse  was  so  copious  and  interesting,  that  I 
cannot  dismiss  it  without  a  supplement,  I  there  showed 
you  some  of  the  symptoms  of  spiritual  death ;  but  I  would 
not  leave  you  dead  as  I  found  you ;  and,  therefore,  I  in- 
tend now  to  consider  the  counterpart  of  that  subject,  and 
show  you  the  nature  and  symptoms  of  spiritual  life. 

I  doubt  not  but  a  number  of  you  have  been  made  alive 
to  God  by  his  quickening  spirit;  but  many,  I  fear,  still 
continue  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins ;  and,  while  such  are 
around  me,  I  cannot  help  imagining  my  situation  some- 
thing like  that  of  the  prophet  in  the  midst  of  the  valley  full 
of  dry  bones,  spread  far  and  vv^ide  around  him ;  and  should 


58  THE   NATURE   AND   PROCESS 

I  be  asked,  Oan  these  dry  hones,  can  these  dead  souls,  live  f 
I  must  answer  with  him, —  0  Lord  God,  thou  knowest. 
"Lord,  I  see  no  symptoms  of  returning  life  in  them,  no 
tendency  towards  it.  I  know  nothing  is  impossible  to 
thee ;  I  firmly  believe  that  thou  canst  inspire  them  with 
life,  dry  and  dead  as  they  are ;  if  they  are  left  to  them- 
selves they  will  continue  dead  to  all  eternity ;  for,  0  Lord, 
the  experiment  has  been  repeatedly  tried ;  thy  servant  has 
over  and  over  made  those  quickening  applications  to  them, 
which  thy  word  prescribes  ;  but  all  in  vain :  they  still  con- 
tinue dead  towards  thee,  and  lie  putrefying  more  and  more 
in  trespasses  and  sins  ;  however,  at  thy  command,  I  would 
attempt  the  most  unpromising  undertaking ;  I  would  pro- 
claim even  unto  dry  bones  (ind  dead  souls,  0  ye  dry  hones ^ 
O  ye  dead  souls,  liear  the  word  of  the  Lord.  I  would  also 
cry  aloud  for  the  animating  breath  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
Come  from  the  four  luhids  and  hreathe,  hreathe  upon  these  slain 
that  they  may  live. 

Ye  dead  sinners,  I  would  make  one  attempt  more  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  to  bring  you  to  life ;  and  if  I  have  the 
least  hope  of  success,  it  is  entirely  owing  to  the  encouraging 
peradventure  that  the  quickening  spirit  of  Christ  may  work 
upon  your  hearts  while  I  am  addressing  myself  to  your 
ears.  And,  0  sirs,  let  us  all  keep  our  souls  in  a  praying 
posture,  throughout  this  discourse.  If  one  of  you  should 
fall  into  a  swoon  or  an  apoplexy,  how  would  all  about  you 
bestir  themselves  to  bring  you  to  life  again !  AndJ"  alas ! 
shall  dead  souls  lie  so  thick  among  us,  in  every  assembly, 
in  every  family,  and  shall  no  means  be  used  for  their  re- 
covery ?  Did  Martha  and  Mary  apply  to  Jesus  with  all 
the  arts  of  importunity  in  behalf  of  their  sick  and  deceased 
brother,  and  are  there  not  some  of  you  that  have  dead  re- 
lations, dead  friends  and  neighbors,  I  mean  dead  in  the 
worst  sense,  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  ?  and  will  you  not 
apply  to  Jesus,  the  Lord  of  life,  and  follow  him  with  your 
importunate  cries  till  he  come  and  call  them  to  life  ?  Now 
let  parents  turn  intercessors  for  their  children,  children  for 
their  parents,  friend  for  friend,  neighbor  for  neighbor,  yea, 
enemy  for  enemy.  Oh !  should  we  all  take  this  method, 
we  might  soon  expect  to  see  the  valley  of  dry  bones  full  of 
living  souls,  an  exceeding  great  army. 

In  praying  for  this  great  and  glorious  event,  you  do  not 
pray  lor  an  impossibility.     Thousands,  as  dead  as  they, 


OF  SPIRITUAL  LIFE.  09 

have  obtained  a  joyful  resurrection  by  the  power  of  God. 
Here  in  my  text  you  have  an  instance  of  a  crowd  of  Jews 
and  Gentiles  that  had  lain  dead  in  sin  together,  and  even 
St.  Paul  among  them,  who  were  recovered  to  life,  and  are 
now  enjoying  an  immortal  life  in  the  heavenly  regions ; 
and,  blessed  be  God,  this  spiritual  life  is  not  entirely  ex- 
tinct among  us.  Among  the  multitudes  of  dead  souls  that 
we  everywhere  meet  with,  we  find  here  and  there  a  soul 
that  has  very  different  symptoms :  once,  indeed,  it  was  like 
the  rest ;  but  now,  while  they  are  quite  senseless  of  divine 
things,  and  have  no  vital  aspirations  after  God,  this  soul 
cannot  be  content  with  the  richest  affluence  of  created  en- 
joyments ;  it  pants  and  breathes  after  God ;  it  feeds  upon 
his  word ;  it  feels  an  almighty  energy  in  eternal  things,  and 
receives  vital  sensations  from  them.  It  discovers  life  and 
vigor  in  devotion,  and  serves  the  living  God  with  pleasure, 
though  it  is  also  subject  to  fits  of  languishment,  and  at 
times  seems  just  expiring,  and  to  lose  all  sensation.  And 
whence  is  this  vast  difference?  Why  is  this  soul  so  dif- 
ferent from  what  it  once  was,  and  what  thousands  around 
still  are  ?  Why  can  it  not,  like  them,  and  like  itself  for- 
merly, lie  dead  and  senseless  in  sin,  without  any  vital  im- 
pressions or  experiences  from  God  or  divine  things  ?  The 
reason  is,  the  happy  reason,  my  brethren,  is,  this  is  a  living 
soul :  "  God,  out  of  the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  it, 
hath  quickened  it  together  Avith  Christ,"  and  hence  it  is 
alive  to  him.  My  present  design  is  to  explain  the  nature 
and  properties  of  this  divine  life,  and  to  show  you  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  usually  begun  in  the  soul :  I  shall 
open  with  the  consideration  of  the  last  particular. 

Here  you  must  observe,  that,  though  spiritual  life  is  in- 
stantaneously infused,  yet  God  prepares  the  soul  for  its  re- 
ception by  a  course  of  previous  operations.  He  spent  six 
days  in  the  creation  of  the  world,  though  he  might  have 
spoken  it  into  being  in  an  instant.  Thus  he  usually  creates 
the  soul  anew  after  a  gradual  process  of  preparatory  actions. 
My  present  design  is  to  trace  these  steps  to  their  grand  re- 
sult, that  we  may  know  whether  ever  divine  grace  has 
carried  you  through  this  gracious  process. 

The  way  by  which  divine  grace  prepares  a  sinner  for 
spiritual  life,  is  by  working  upon  all  the  principles  of  the 
rational  life,  and  exciting  him  to  exert  them  to  the  utmost 
to  obtain  it.     Here  it  is  proper  for  you  to  recollect  what  I 


60  THE   NATUKE   AND   PROCESS 

observed  in  my  last  discom-se,  that  even  a  sinner,  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins  is  alive,  and  capable  of  action  in  other 
respects  :  he  can  not  only  perform  the  actions,  and  feel  the 
sensations  of  animal  life,  but  he  can  also  exercise  his  intel- 
lectual powers  about  intellectual  objects,  and  even  about 
divine  things :  he  is  capable  of  thinking  of  these,  and  of 
receiving  some  impressions  from  them :  he  is  also  capable 
of  attending  upon  the  ordinances  of  the  gospel,  and  per- 
forming the  external  duties  of  religion.  These  things  a 
sinner  may  do,  and  yet  be  dead  in  sin.  Indeed,  he  will  not 
exercise  his  natural  powers  above  these  things  while  left  to 
himself:  he  has  the  power,  but  then  he  has  no  disposition 
to  employ  it :  he  is  indeed  capable  of  meditating  upon 
spiritual  things,  but  what  does  this  avail  when  he  will  not 
turn  his  mind  to  such  objects?  or  if  he  does,  he  considers 
them  as  mere  speculations,  and  not  as  the  most  interesting 
and  important  realities.  How  few,  or  how  superficial  and 
unaffecting  are  a  sinner's  thoughts  of  them !  Heaven  and 
hell  are  objects  that  may  strike  the  passions,  and  raise  the 
joys  and  fears  of  a  natural  man,  but  in  general  he  is  little 
or  notliing  impressed  with  them.  The  more  I  know  of 
mankind,  I  have  the  lower  opinion  of  what  they  will  do  in 
religion  when  left  to  themselves.  They  have  a  natural 
power,  and  we  have  seen  all  possible  means  used  Avith  them 
to  excite  them  to  put  it  forth ;  but,  alas !  all  is  vain,  and 
nothing  will  be  done  to  the  purpose  till  God  stir  them  up  to 
exert  their  natural  abilities ;  and  this  he  performs  as  a  pre- 
parative for  spiritual  life.  He  brings  the  sinner  to  exert  all 
his  active  powers  in  seeking  this  divine  principle ;  nature 
does  her  utmost,  and  all  outward  means  are  tried  before  a 
supernatural  principle  is  implanted. 

The  evangelist  John  has  given  us  the  history  of  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead  body  of  Lazarus  after  it  had  been 
four  days  in  the  grave ;  and  I  would  now  give  you  the 
history  of  a  more  glorious  resurrection,  the  resurrection  of 
a  soul  that  had  lain  dead  for  months  and  years,  and  yet  is 
at  last  quickened  by  the  same  almighty  power  with  a  divine 
and  immortal  life. 

Should  I  exemplify  it  by  a  particular  instance,  I  might 
fix  upon  this  or  that  person  in  this  assembly,  and  remind 
you,  and  inform  others,  of  the  process  of  this  Avork  in  your 
souls.  And  O  !  how  happy  are  such  of  you,  that  you  may 
be  produced  as  instances  in  this  case ! 


OF   SPIRITUAL    LIFE.  61 

You  lay  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty  years,  or  more,  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins :  you  did  not  breathe  and  pant  like  a 
living  soul  after  God  and  holiness;  you  had  little  more 
sense  of  the  burden  of  sin  than  a  corpse  of  the  pressure  of 
a  mountain ;  you  had  no  appetite  for  the  living  bread  that 
came  down  from  heaven ;  you  spread  the  contagion  of  sin 
around  you  by  your  conversation  and  example,  like  the 
stench  and  corrupt  effluvia  of  a  rotten  carcass ;  God  did 
not  cast  you  away  as  irrecoverably  dead,  but  stirred  and 
agitated  you  within,  and  struggled  long  with  the  principles 
of  death  to  subdue  them :  and  if  it  was  your  happy  lot  to 
live  under  a  faithful  ministry,  the  living  oracles  that  con- 
tained the  seeds  of  the  divine  life  were  applied  to  you  with 
care  and  solicitude.  The  terrors  of  the  Lord  were  thunder- 
ed in  your  ears  to  awaken  you.  The  experiment  of  a 
Saviour's  dying  love,  and  the  rich  grace  of  the  gospel, 
were  repeatedly  tried  upon  you:  now  you  were  carried 
within  hearing  of  the  heavenly  music,  and  within  sight  of 
the  glories  of  paradise,  to  try  if  these  would  charm  you ; 
now  you  were,  as  it  were,  held  over  the  flames  of  hell,  that 
they  might,  by  their  pungent  pains,  scorch  and  startle  you 
into  life.  Providence  also  concurred  with  these  applica- 
tions, and  tried  to  recover  you  by  mercies  and  judgments, 
sickness  and  health,  losses  and  possessions,  disappointments 
and  successes,  threatenings  and  deliverances.  But,  O !  re- 
flect with  shame  and  sorrow  how  long  all  these  quickening 
applications  were  in  vain ;  you  still  lay  in  a  dead  sleep,  or, 
if  at  times  you  seemed  to  move,  and  gave  us  hopes  you 
were  coming  to  life  again,  you  soon  relapsed,  and  grew  as 
senseless  as  ever.  And  alas !  are  there  not  some  of  you  in 
this  condition  to  this  very  moment  ?  O  deplorable,  sight ! 
May  the  hour  come,  and  O  that  this  may  be  the  hour,  in 
which  such  dead  souls  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God 
and  live.     John,  v.  25. 

But  as  to  such  of  you  in  whom  I  would  exemplify  this 
history  of  a  spiritual  resurrection  when  your  case  was  thus 
deplorable,  and  seemingly  helpless,  the  happy  hour,  the 
time  of  love  came  when  you  must  live.  When  all  these 
applications  had  been  unsuccessful,  the  all-quickening  spirit 
of  God  determined  to  exert  more  of  his  energy,  and  work 
more  effectually  upon  you.  Perhaps  a  verse  in  your  Bible, 
a  sentence  in  a  sermon,  an  alarming  Providence,  the  con- 
versation of  a  pious  friend,  or  something  that  unexpectedly 

6 


62  THE  NATURE  AND   PROCESS 

occurred  to  your  own  thoughts,  first  struck  your  minds  with 
unusual  force  ;  you  found  you  could  not  harden  yourselves 
against  it  as  you  were  wont  to  do ;  it  was  attended  with  a 
power  you  never  before  had  felt,  and  which  you  could  not 
resist :  this  made  you  thoughtful  and  pensive,  and  turned 
your  minds  to  objects  that  you  were  wont  to  neglect ;  this 
made  you  stand  and  pause,  and  think  of  the  state  of  your 
neglected  souls;  you  began  to  fear  matters  were  wrong 
with  you ;  "  What  will  become  of  me  when  I  leave  this 
world  ?  Where  shall  I  reside  for  ever  ?  Am  I  prepared 
for  the  eternal  world  ?  How  have  I  spent  my  life  ?"  The 
great  God,  whom  you  were  wont  to  neglect,  appeared  to 
you  as  a  Being  that  demanded  your  regard  ;  you  saw  that 
he  was  indeed  a  venerable,  awful,  majestic  Being,  with 
whom  you  had  the  most  important  concern  :  in  short,  you 
saw  that  such  a  life  as  you  had  led  would  never  bring  you 
to  heaven :  you  saw  that  you  must  make  religion  more  your 
business  than  you  had  ever  done,  and  thereupon  you  alter- 
ed your  former  course :  you  broke  off  from  several  of  your 
vices,  you  deserted  your  extravagant  company,  and  you 
began  to  frequent  the  throne  of  grace,  to  study  religion, 
and  to  attend  upon  its  institutions  ;  and  this  you  did  Avith 
some  degTce  of  earnestness  and  solicitude. 

When  you  were  thus  reformed,  you  began  to  flatter  your- 
selves that  you  had  escaped  out  of  your  dangerous  condi- 
tion, and  secured  the  divine  favor :  now  you  began  to  view 
yourselves  with  secret  self-applause  as  true  Christians ;  but 
all  this  time  the  reformation  was  only  outward,  and  there 
was  no  new  principle  of  a  divine  supernatural  life  implant- 
ed in  your  hearts :  you  had  no  clear  heart-affecting  views 
of  the  intrinsic  evil,  and  odious  nature  of  sin,  considered  in 
itself,  nor  of  the  entire  universal  corruption  of  your  nature, 
and  the  necessity,  not  only  of  adorning  3^our  outer  man  by 
an  external  reformation,  but  an  inward  change  of  heart  by 
the  almighty  power  of  God :  you  were  under  the  govern- 
ment of  a  self-righteous  spirit';  your  own  good  works  were 
the  ground  of  your  hopes,  and  you  had  no  relish  for  the 
mortifying  doctrine  of  salvation  through  the  mere  mercy 
of  God,  and  the  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ:  though 
your  education  taught  you  to  acknowledge  Christ  as  the 
only  Saviour,  and  ascribe  all  hopes  to  his  death,  yet  in 
reality  he  was  of  very  little  importance  in  your  religion ; 
he  had  but  little  place  in  youi'  heart  and  affections,  even 


OF   SPIRITUAL   LIFE.  63 

when  yoTi  urged  his  name  as  your  only  plea  at  the  throne 
of  grace :  in  short,  you  had  not  the  spirit  of  the  gospel, 
nor  any  spiritual  life  within  you.  And  this  is  all  the  re- 
ligion with  v/hich  multitudes  are  contented  :  with  this  they 
obtain  a  name  that  they  live  :  but  in  the  sight  of  God,  and 
in  reality,  they  are  dead  ;  and  had  you  been  suffered  to.  rest 
here,  according  to  your  own  desire,  you  would  have  been 
dead  still.  But  God,  who  is  rich  (O  how  inconceivably 
rich!)  in  mercy,  for  the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  you, 
resolved  to  carry  on  his  work  in  you;  and  therefore, 
while  you  were  flattering  yourselves,  and  elated  with  a 
proud  conceit  of  a  happy  change  in  your  condition,  he  sur- 
prised you  with  a  very  different  view  of  your  own  case ;  he 
opened  your  eyes  farther,  and  then  you  saw,  you  felt  those 
things  of  which  till  then  you  had  but  little  sense  or  appre- 
hension— such  as  the  corruption  of  your  hearts,  the  awful 
strictness  of  the  divine  law,  your  utter  inability  to  yield 
perfect  obedience,  and  the  necessity  of  an  inward  change 
of  the  inclinations  and  relishes  of  your  soul.  Alas !  you 
found  yourselves  quite  helpless,  and  all  your  efforts  feeble 
and  ineffectual ;  then  you  perceived  yourselves  really  dead 
in  sin,  and  that  you  must  continue  so  to  all  eternity,  unless 
quickened  by  a  power  infinitely  superior  to  your  own  ;  not 
that  you  lay  slothful  and  inactive  at  this  time ;  no,  never 
did  you  exert  yourselves  so  vigorously  in  all  your  life, 
never  did  you  besiege  the  throne  of  grace  with  such  eager 
attention,  or  make  such  a  vigorous  resistance  against  sin 
and  temptation ;  all  your  natural  powers  were  exerted  to 
'the  highest  pitch,  for  now  you  saw  your  case  required  it: 
but  you  found  all  your  most  vigorous  endeavors  insufficient, 
and  you  were  sensible  that,  without  the  assistance  of  a 
superior  power,  the  work  of  religion  could  never  be  effected. 
Now  you  were  reduced  very  low  indeed.  While  you 
imagined  you  could  render  yourselves  safe  by  a  reformation 
in  your  own  power,  you  were  not  much  alarmed  at  your 
condition,  though  you  saw  it  bad.  But  O  !  to  feel  your- 
selves dead  in  sin,  and  that  you  cannot  help  yourselves  ;  to 
see  yourselves  in  a  state  of  condemnation,  liable  to  execu- 
tion every  moment,  and  yet  to  find  all  your  endeavors 
utterly  insufficient  to  relieve  you ;  to  be  obliged,  after  all 
you  had  done,  to  lie  at  mercy  and  confess  that  you  were  as 
deserving  of  everlasting  punishment  as  ever  the  most  no- 
torious criminal  was  of  the  stroke  of  public  justice ;  this 


64  THE   NATUKE   AND   PROCESS 

was  a  state  of  extreme  dejection,  terror,  and  anxiety  indeed. 
The  proud,  self-confident  creature  was  never  thoroughly 
mortified  and  humbled  till  now,  when  he  is  slain  by  the. 
law,  and  entirely  cut  off  from  all  hopes  from  himself  Now 
you  were  ready  to  cry,  "  I  am  cut  off:  my  strength  and  my 
hope  are  perished  from  the  Lord  ;"  but,  blessed  be  God,  he 
did  not  leave  you  in  this  condition.  These  preparations 
were  like  the  taking  away  the  stone  from  the  sepulchre  of 
Lazarus,  which  was  a  prelude  to  that  almighty  voice  which 
called  him  from  the  dead.  ISTow  you  appear  to  me  like  dry 
bones  in  Ezekiel's  vision,  in  one  stage  of  the  operation. 
After  there  had  been  a  noise,  and  shaking  among  them, 
and  the  bones  had  come  together,  bone  to  his  bone,  /  beheld, 
says  he,  and  lo,  the  sinews  and  the  flesh  came  up  upon  therii, 
and  the  shin  covered  them  above  ;  but  there  vjas  no  breath  in 
them.  But  now  the  important  crisis  is  come,  when  he  who 
stood  over  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  pronounced  the  life- 
restoring  mandate,  Lazarus,  come  forth;  when  he  who 
breathed  into  Adam  the  breath  of  life,  and  made  him  a 
living  soul ;  I  say,  now  the  crisis  is  come,  when  he  will  im- 
plant the  principles  of  life  in  your  souls ;  suddenly  you  feel 
the  amazing  change,  and  find  you  are  acting  from  principles 
entirely  new  to  you ;  for  now  your  hearts  that  were  wont 
to  reluctate,  and  start  back  from  God,  rise  to  him  with  the 
strongest  aspirations;  now  the  way  of  salvation  through 
Christ,  which  you  could  never  relish  before,  appears  all 
amiable  and  glorious,  and  captivates  your  whole  souls. 
Holiness  has  lovety  and  powerful  charms,  which  captivate 
you  to  the  most  willing  obedience,  notwithstanding  your- 
former  disgust  to  it ;  and,  though  once  you  were  enamored 
with  sin,  or  disliked  it  only  because  you  could  not  indulge 
it  with  impunity,  it  now  appears  to  you  a  mass  of  corrup- 
tion and  deformity,  an  abominable  thing,  which  you  hate 
above  all  other  things  on  earth  or  in  hell.  At  this  juncture 
you  are  animated  with  a  new  life  in  every  faculty  of  your 
souls,  and  hereupon  you  felt  the  instincts,  the  appetites,  the 
sympathies  and  antipathies  of  a  new  life,  a  divine  life, 
j  ustly  styled  by  the  apostle  the  life  of  God — the  life  of  God 
in  the  soul  of  man.  The  pulse  of  sacred  passions  began  to 
beat  towards  spiritual  objects ;  the  vital  warmth  of  love 
spread  itself  tlirough  your  whole  frame ;  you  breathed  out 
your  desires  and  prayers  before  God ;  like  a  new-born  in- 
fant you  began  to  cry  after  him,  and  itt  times  you  have 


OF   SPIRITUAL   LIFE.  65 

learned  to  lisp  liis  name  with  filial  endearment,  and  cry 
Abba,  Father ;  yon  hnngered  and  thirsted  after  righteous- 
ness, and  as  every  kind  of  life  must  have  its  proper  nourish- 
ment, so  your  spiritual  life  fed  upon  Christ,  the  living 
bread,  and  the  sincere  milk  of  his  word.  You  also  felt  a 
new  set  of  sensations ;  divine  things  now  made  deep  and 
tender  impressions  upon  you  ;  the  great  realities  of  religion 
and  eternity  now  affected  you  in  a  manner  unknown  be- 
fore ;  you  likewise  found  your  souls  actuated  witli  life  and 
vigor  in  the  service  of  God,  and  in  the  duties  you  owed  to 
mankind.  This  strange  alteration,  no  doubt,  filled  you 
with  surprise  and  amazement,  something  like  that  of  Adam 
when  he  found  himself  start  into  life  out  of  his  eternal 
non-existence.  .  With  these  ncAV  sensations  every  thing  ap- 
peared to  you  in  a  quite  different  light,  and  you  could  not 
but  wonder  that  you  had  never  perceived  them  in  that 
manner  before. 

Thus,  my  dear  brethren,  when  you  were  even  dead  in 
sin,  God  quickened  you  together  with  Christ.  It  is  true, 
the  principle  of  life  might  be  weak  at  first ;  nay,  it  may  be 
weak  still,  and  at  times  may  languish,  and  seem  just  ex- 
piring in  the  agonies  of  death,  but,  blessed  be  the  quicken- 
ing spirit  of  Christ,  since  the  happy  hour  of  your  resurrection 
you  have  never  been,  and  you  never  will  be  to  all  eternity, 
what  you  once  were,  dead  in  tresjmsses  and  sins. 

And  is  it  so  indeed  ?  Then  from  this  moment  begin  to 
rejoice  and  bless  "the  Lord,  who  raised  you  to  spiritual  life. 
O  let  the  hearts  he  has  quickened  beat  with  his  love ;  let  the 
lips  he  has  opened,  when  quivering  in  death,  speak  his 
praise,  and  devote  that  life  to  him  which  he  has  given  you, 
and  which  he  still  supports !  Consider  what  a  divine  and 
noble  life  he  has  given  you.  It  is  a  capacity  and  aptitude 
for  the  most  exalted  and  divine  services  and  enjoyments. 
Now  you  have  a  relish  for  the  supreme  good  as  your  hap- 
piness, the  only  proper  food  for  your  immortal  souls,  and  he 
will  not  suffer  you  to  hunger  and  thirst  in  vain,  but  will 
satisfy  the  appetites  he  has  implanted  in  your  nature.  O 
how  happy  are  you  in  this  single  gift  of  spiritual  life !  this 
is  a  life  that  cannot  perish,  even  in  the  ruins  of  the  world. 
What  though  you  must  ere  long  yield  your  mortal  bodies 
and  animal  life  to  death  and  rottenness?  Your  most  im- 
portant life  is  immortal,  and  subject  to  no  such  dissolution ; 
and  therefore  be  courageous  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and 

6* 


6Q  THE   NATUKE   AND   PKOCESS 

bid  defiance  to  all  the  calamities  of  life,  and  all  the  terrors 
of  death;  for  your  life  is  hid  loith  Christ  in  God:  and  tvhen 
Christ,  -who  is  your  life,  shall  appear,  then  shall  you  also  ap- 
pear luith  him  in  glory.  Col.  iii.  8,  4. 

I  would  willingly  go  on  in  this  strain,  and  leave  the 
pulpit  with  a  relish  of  these  delightful  truths  upon  my 
spirit ;  but,  alas !  I  must  turn  my  address  to  another  set  of 
persons  in  the  assembly;  but  ^' where  is  the  Lord  God  of 
Elijah?"  who  restored  the  Shunamite's  son  to  life  by  means 
of  that  prophet  ?  I  am  going  to  call  to  the  dead,  and  I 
know  they  will  not  hear,  unless  he  attend  my  feeble  voice 
with  his  almighty  power.  I  would  pray  over  you  like 
Elijah  over  the  dead  child,  0  Lord  God,  let  this  sinner^ s  life 
come  into  him  again.  Are  not  the  living  and  the  dead  pro- 
miscuously blended  in  this  assembly  ?  Here  is  a  dead  soul, 
there  another,  and  there  another,  all  over  the  house ;  and 
here  and  there  a  few  living  souls  thinly  scattered  among 
them.  Have  you  ever  been  carried  through  such  a  prepar- 
atory process  as  I  have  described  ?  or  if  you  are  uncertain 
about  this,  as  some  may  be  who  are  animated  with  spiritual 
life,  inquire,  have  you  the  feelings,  the  appetites  and  aver- 
sions, the  pleasing  and  the  painful  sensations  of  living  souls  ? 
Methinks  conscience  breaks  its  silence  in  some  of  you, 
whether  you  will  or  not,  and  cries,  "0  no;  there  is  not  a 
spark  of  life  in  this  breast."  Well,  my  poor  deceased  friends, 
(for  so  I  may  call  you,)  I  hope  you  will  seriously  attend  to 
what  I  am  going  seriously  to  say  to  you.  I  have  no  bad 
design  upon  you,  but  only  to  restore  you  to  life.  And 
though  your  case  is  really  discouraging,  yet  I  hope  it  is  not 
quite  desperate.  The  principles  of  nature,  reason,  self-love, 
joy,  and  fear  are  still  alive  in  you,  and  you  are  capable  of 
some  application  to  divine  things.  And,  as  I  told  you,  it 
is  upon  the  principles  of  nature  that  God  is  wont  to  work, 
to  prepare  the  soul  for  the  infusion  of  a  supernatural  life. 
And  these  I  would  now  work  upon,  in  hopes  you  are  not 
proof  against  considerations  of  the  greatest  weight  and 
energy,  I  earnestly  beg  you  would  lay  to  heart  such  things 
as  these. 

Can  you  content  yourselves  with  an  animal  life,  the  life 
of  boasts,  with  that  superfluity,  reason,  just  to  render  you 
a  more  ingenious  and  self- tormenting  kind  of  brutes ;  more 
artful  in  gTatifying  your  sordid  appetites,  and  yet  still  un- 
easy for  want  of  an  unknown  something ;  a  care  that  the 


OF   SPIRITUAL   LIFE.  67 

brutal  world,  being  destitute  of  reason,  are  unmolested  with  ? 
O !  have  you  no  ambition  to  be  animated  with  a  divine 
immortal  life,  the  life  of  God? 

Can  you  be  contented  with  a  mere  temporal  life,  when 
your  souls  must  exist  for  ever  ?  That  infinite  world  beyond 
the  grave  is  replenished  with  nothing  but  the  terrors  of 
death  to  you,  if  you  are  destitute  of  spiritual  life.  And  0  ! 
can  you  bear  the  thought  of  residing  among  its  grim  and 
ghastly  terrors  for  ever? 

Are  you  contented  to  be  cut  off  from  God,  as  a  mortified 
member  of  the  body,  and  to  be  banished  for  ever  from  all 
the  joys  of  his  presence?  You  cannot  be  admitted  to 
heaven  without  spiritual  life.  Hell  is  the  sepulchre  for  dead 
souls,  and  thither  you  must  be  sent,  if  you  still  continue 
dead.  And  does  not  this  thought  affect  you?  Consider 
also,  now  is  the  only  time  in  which  you  can  be  restored  to 
life.  And  O !  will  you  let  it  pass  by  without  improve- 
ment ? 

Shall  all  the  means  that  have  been  used  for  your  revival 
be  in  vain  ?  Or  the  stirrings  of  the  spirit,  the  alarms  of 
your  own  consciences,  the  blessings  and  chastisements  of 
Providence,  the  persuasions,  tears,  and  lamentations  of  your 
living  friends,  O  !  shall  all  these  be  in  vain  ?  Can  you  bear 
the  thought  ?  Surely  no.  Therefore,  O  heave  and  struggle 
to  burst  the  chains  of  death.  Cry  mightily  to  God  to 
quicken  you.  Use  all  the  means  of  vivification,  and  avoid 
every  deadly  and  contagious  thing.  I  know  not,  my 
brethren,  how  this  thought  will  affect  us  at  parting  to-day, 
that  we  have  left  behind  us  many  a  dead  soul.  But  sup- 
pose we  should  leave  as  many  bodies  here  behind  us  as 
there  are  dead  souls  among  us ;  suppose  every  sinner 
destitute  of  spiritual  life  should  now  be  struck  dead  before 
us,  O  how  would  this  floor  be  overlaid  with  dead  corpses ! 
How  few  of  us  would  escape !  What  bitter  lamentations 
and  tears  would  be  among  us  !  One  would  lose  a  husband 
or  a  wife,  another  a  friend  or  a  neighbor.  And  have  we 
hearts  to  mourn,  and  tears  to  shed  over  such  an  event  as 
this,  and  have  we  no  compassion  for  dead  souls  ?  Is  there 
none  to  mourn  over  them  ?  Sinners,  if  you  will  continue 
dead,  there  are  some  here  to-day  who  part  with  you  with 
this  wish,  0  that  my  head  were  loaters,  and  miine  eyes  foun- 
tains of  tears,  that  I  might  weep  day  and  night  for  the  slain  of 
the  daughter  of  my  people.     And  O  that  our  mourning  may 


68  POOR   AND   CONTEITE   SPIRITS 

reach  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  life,  and  that  you  might  be 
quickened  from  your  death  in  trespasses  and  sins !  Amen 
and  Amen. 


■■♦♦» 


VI. 

POOR  AND  CONTRITE  SPIRITS  THE  OBJECTS  OF  THE  DIVINE 

FAVOR. 

"  To  this  man  will  I  look,  even   to  him  that  is  poor  and  of  a  contrite 
spirit,  and  trembleth  at  my  word. — Isaiah,  Ixvi.  2. 

As  we  consist  of  animal  bodies  as  well  as  immortal  souls, 
and  are  endowed  with  corporeal  senses  as  well  as  rational 
powers,  God,  who  has  wisely  adapted  our  religion  to  our 
make,  requires  bodily  as  well  as  spiritual  worship ;  and 
commands  us  not  only  to  exercise  the  inward  powers  of  our 
ininds  in  proper  acts  of  devotion,  but  also  to  express  our 
inward  devotion  in  suitable  external  actions,  and  to  attend 
upon  him  in  the  sensible  outward  ordinances  which  he  has 
appointed.  Thus  it  is  under  the  gospel ;  but  it  was  more 
remarkably  so  under  the  law,  which,  compared  with  the 
pure  and  spiritual  worship  of  the  gospel,  was  a  system  of 
carnal  ordinances,  and  required  a  great  deal  of  external 
pomp  and  grandeur,  and  bodily  services.  Thus  a  costly 
and  magnificent  structure  was  erected,  by  divine  direction, 
in  the  wilderness,  called  the  tabernacle,  because  built  in  the 
form  of  a  tent,  and  movable  from  place  to  place ;  and  after- 
wards a  most  stately  temple  was  built  by  Solomon  with 
immense  cost,  where  the  divine  worship  should  be  statedly 
celebrated,  and  where  all  the  males  of  Israel  should  solemnly 
meet  for  that  purpose  three  times  in  the  year. 

The  externals  were  not  intended  to  exclude  the  internal 
worship  of  the  spirit,  but  to  express  and  assist  it.  And 
these  ceremonials  were  not  to  be  put  in  the  place  of  morals, 
but  observed  as  helps  to  the  practice  of  them,  and  to  pre- 
figure the  great  Messiah.  Even  under  the  Mosaic  dispen- 
sation, God  had  the  greatest  regard  to  holiness  of  heart  and 
life ;  and  the  strictest  observer  of  ceremonies  could  not  be 
accepted  without  them. 

But  it  is  natural  to  degenerate  mankind  to  invert  the 


THE   OBJECTS   OF   DIVINE   FAVOK.  69 

order  of  things,  to  place  a  part,  the  easiest  and  meanest  part 
of  religion,  for  the  whole  of  it,  to  rest  in  the  externals  of 
religion  as  sufficient,  without  regarding  the  heart,  and  to 
depend  upon  a  pharisaical  strictness  in  ceremonial  observ- 
ances, as  an  excuse  or  atonement  for  neglecting  the  weightier 
matters  of  the  law,  judgment,  mercy,  and  faith.  This  was 
the  unhappy  error  of  the  Jews  in  Isaiah's  time ;  and  this 
the  Lord  would  correct  in  the  first  verse  of  this  chapter. 
The  Jews  gloried  in  their  having  the  house  of  God  among 
them,  and  were  ever  trusting  in  vain  words,  saying,  the 
te.mple  of  the  Lord,  the  temple  of  the  Lord  are  these.  They 
filled  their  altars  with  costly  sacrifices ;  and  in  these  they 
trusted  to  make  atonement  for  sin,  and  secure  the  divine 
favor. 

As  to  their  sacrifices,  God  let  them  know,  that  while  they 
had  no  regard  to  their  morals,  but  chose  their  own  ways, 
and  their  souls  delighted  in  their  abominations,  while  they 
presented  them  in  a  formal  manner,  without  the  fire  of 
divine  love,  their  sacrifices  were  so  far  from  procuring  his 
acceptance,  that  they  were  odious  to  him. 

To  remove  this  superstitious  confidence  in  the  temple,  the 
Lord  informs  them  that  he  had  no  need  of  it ;  that,  larsfe 
and  magnificent  as  it  was,  it  was  not  fit  to  contain  him ; 
and  that,  in  consecrating  it  to  him,  they  should  not  proudly 
think  that  they  had  given  him  any  thing  to  which  he  had 
no"  prior  right.  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  the  heaven  is  my 
throne,  where  I  reign  conspicuous  in  the  visible  majesty 
and  grandeur  of  a  God;  and  though  the  earth  is  not 
adorned  with  such  illustrious  displays  of  my  immediate 
presence,  though  it  does  not  shine  in  all  the  glory  of  my 
royal  palace  on  high,  yet  it  is  a  little  province  in  my  im- 
mense empire,  and  subject  to  my  authority ;  it  is  my  foot- 
stool. If,  then,  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  earth  is  my 
footstool ;  if  the  whole  creation  is  my  kingdom,  where  is 
the  house  that  ye  build  unto  me  ?  where  is  your  temple 
which  appears  so  stately  in  your  eyes  ?  Can  you  vainly 
imagine  that  my  presence  can  be  confined  to  you  in  the 
narrow  bounds  of  a  temple,  when  the  heaven  of  heavens 
cannot  contain  me  ?     Where  is  the  place  of  my  rest  ?" 

These  are  such  majestic  strains  of  language  as  are  worthy 
a  God.  Thus  it  becomes  him  to  advance  himself  above  the 
whole  creation,  and  to  assert  his  absolute  property  in,  and 
independency  upon,  the  universe.     Had  he  only  turned  to 


70  POOR   AND   CONTRITE   SPIRIT. 

US  tlie  bright  side  of  his  throne,  that  dazzles  with  insuffer- 
able splendor ;  had  he  only  displayed  his  majesty  unalloyed 
with  grace  and  condescension  in  such  language  as  this,  it 
would  have  overwhelmed  us,  and  cast  us  into  the  most 
abject  despondency,  as  the  outcasts  of  his  providence  be- 
neath his  notice.  We  should  be  ready  in  hopeless  anxiety 
to  say,  "Is  all  this  earth,  which  to  us  appears  so  vast,  is  it 
all  but  the  humble  footstool  of  God  ?  hardly  worth  to  bear 
his  feet  ?  What,  then,  am  I  ?  An  atom  of  an  atom- world, 
a  trifling  individual  of  a  trifling  race.  The  vast  affairs  of 
heaven  and  earth  lie  upon  his  hand,  and  he  is  employed  in 
the  concerns  of  the  wide  universe,  and  can  he  find  leisure 
to  concern  himself  with  me,  and  my  little  interests?  It 
seems  daring  and  presumptuous  to  hope  for  such  condescen- 
sion. And  shall  I  then  despair  of  the  gracious  regard  of 
my  Maker  ?" 

No,  desponding  creature !  Mean  and  unworthy  as  thou 
art,  hear  the  voice  of  divine  condescension,  as  well  as  of 
majesty :  To  this  man  luill  I  look,  even  to  him  that  is  poor, 
and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  that  tremhletli  at  my  word.  Though 
God  dwelleth  not  in  temples  made  with  hands,  though  he 
pours  contempt  upon  princes,  and  scorns  them  in  all  their 
haughty  glory  and  affected  majesty,  yet  there  are  persons 
whom  his  gracious  eye  will  regard.  The  high  and  lofty 
one  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  and  dwelleth  in  the  high  and 
holy  place,  he  will  look  down  through  all  the  shining  ranks 
of  angels  upon — whom  ?  Not  on  the  proud,  the  haughty, 
and  presumptuous,  but  upon  him  that  is  poor  and  of  a  con- 
trite spirit,  and  tremihleth  at  his  ivord.  To  this  man  will  he 
look  from  the  throne  of  his  majesty,  however  low,  however 
mean  he  may  be.  This  man  can  never  be  lost  or  overlooked 
among  the  multitude  of  creatures,  but  the  eyes  of  the  Lord 
will  discover  him  in  the  greatest  crowd,  his  eyes  will 
graciously  fix  upon  this  man,  this  particular  man,  though 
there  Avere  but  one  such  in  the  compass  of  the  creation,  or 
thous^h  he  were  banished  into  the  remotest  corner  of  the 
universe. 

This,  my  brethren,  is  a  matter  of  universal  concern.  It 
is  the  interest  of  each  of  us  to  know  whether  we  are  thus 
graciously  regarded  by  that  God  on  whom  our  very  being 
and  all  our  happiness  entirely  depend.  And  how  shall  we 
know  this  ?  In  no  other  way  than  by  discovering  whether 
we  have  tlie  characters  of  that  happy  man  to  whom  he 


THE   OBJECTS   OF  DIVINE   FAVOE.  71 

condescends  to  look.  Let  us  inquire  into  the  import  of  each 
of  the  characters. 

I.  It  is  the  poor  man  to  whom  the  majesty  of  heaven 
condescends  to  look. 

This  does  not  principally  refer  to  those  that  are  poor  in 
this  world;  for,  though  it  be  very  common  that  "the  poor 
of  this  world  are  chosen  to  be  rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the 
kingdom,"  yet  this  is  not  a  universal  rule;  for  many,  alas! 
that  are  poor  in  this  world  are  not  rich  towards  God,  nor 
rich  in  good  works,  and  therefore  shall  famish  through 
eternity  in  remediless  want  and  wretchedness.  But  the 
poor  here  signifies  such  as  Christ  characterizes  more  fully 
by  the  poor  in  spirit.  And  this  character  implies  the  fol- 
lowing ingredients : 

(1.)  The  poor  man  to  whom  Jehovah  looks  is  deeply 
sensible  of  his  own  insufficiency,  and  that  nothing  but  the 
enjoyment  of  God  can  make  him  happy.  He  feels  himself 
to  be,  what  he  really  is,  a  poor,  impotent,  dependent  crea- 
ture, that  can  neither  live,  nor  move,  nor  exist  without 
God. 

This  sense  of  his  dependence  upon  God  is  attended  with 
a  sense  of  the  inability  of  all  earthly  enjoyments  to  make 
him  happy,  and  fill  the  vast  capacities  of  his  soul,  which 
were  formed  for  the  enjoyment  of  an  infinite  good.  He 
has  a  relish  for  the  blessings  of  this  life,  but  it  is  attended 
with  a  sense  of  their  insufficiency,  and  does  not  exclude  a 
stronger  relish  for  the  superior  pleasure  of  religion. 

If  he  enjoys  no  gTeat  share  of  the  comforts  of  this  life, 
he  does  not  labor,  nor  so  much  as  wish  for  them  as  his 
supreme  happiness :  he  is  well  assured  they  can  never  an- 
swer this  end  in  their  greatest  affiuence.  It  is  for  God,  it  is 
for  the  living  God,  that  his  soul  most  eagerly  thirsts. 

If  he  enjoys  an  affluence  of  earthly  blessings,  he  still  re- 
tains a  sense  of  his  need  of  the  enjoyment  of  God.  To  be 
discontent  and  dissatisfied  is  the  common  fate  of  the  rich  as 
well  as  the  poor;  they  are  still  craving  an  unknown  some- 
thing to  complete  their  bliss.  The  soul,  being  formed  for 
the  fruition  of  the  Supreme  Good,  secretly  languishes  and 
pines  away  in  the  midst  of  other  enjoyments,  without 
knowing  its  cure.  It  is  the  enjoyment  of  God  only  that 
can  satisfy  its  unbounded  desires.  But  the  poor  in  spirit 
know  where  their  cure  lies.  They  do  not  ask  with  uncer- 
tainty.   Who  ivill  shoiv  ?;s  any  good?  but  their  petitions 


72  POOR   AND   CONTEITE   SPIRITS 

centre  in  this,  as  the  grand  constituent  of  their  happiness, 
Lord,  lift  thou  up  tJie  light  of  thy  countenance  upon  us. 

(2.)  This  spiritual  poverty  implies  deep  humility  and 
self-abasement. 

The  poor  man  on  whom  the  God  of  heaven  condescends 
to  look  is  mean  in  his  own  apprehensions;  he  accounts 
himself  not  a  being  of  mighty  importance.  He  has  no  high 
esteem  of  his  own  good  quahties,  but  is  little  in  his  own 
eyes.  After  he  has  done  all,  he  counts  himself  an  unprofit- 
able servant. 

He  that  is  poor  in  spirit  has  also  a  humbling  sense  of  his 
own  sinfulness.  His  memory  is  quick  to  recollect  his  past 
sins,  and  he  is  very  sharp-sighted  to  discover  the  remaining 
corruptions  of  his  heart,  and  the  imperfections  of  his  best 
duties.  He  sincerely  doubts  whether  there  be  a  saint  on 
earth  so  exceeding  corrupt ;  and,  though  he  may  be  con- 
vinced that  the  Lord  has  begun  a  work  of  grace  in  him, 
and  consequently,  that  he  is  in  a  better  state  than  such  as 
are  under  the  prevailing  dominion  of  sin,  yet  he  really 
questions  whether  there  be  such  a  depraved  creature  in  the 
world  as  he  sees  he  has  been.  Self-abasement  is  pleasing 
to  him  ;  his  humility  is  not  forced ;  he  does  not  think  it  a 
great  thing  for  him  to  sink  thus  low.  He  makes  no  proud 
boasts  of  his  good  heart,  or  good  life,  but  falls  in  the  dust 
before  God,  and  casts  all  his  dependence  upon  his  free 
grace : — which  leads  me  to  observe, 

(3.)  That  he  who  is  poor  in  spirit  is  sensible  of  his  need 
of  the  influences  of  divine  grace  to  sanctify,  and  enrich  him 
with  the  graces  of  the  Spirit. 

Hence,  like  a  poor  man  that  cannot  subsist  upon  his 
stock,  he  depends  entirely  upon  the  grace  of  God  to  work 
all  his  works  in  him,  and  to  enable  him  to  work  out  his 
salvation  with  fear  and  trembling. 

(4.)  He  is  deeply  sensible  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  the 
righteousness  of  Christ  for  his  justification. 

He  pleads  his  righteousness  only,  and  trusts  in  it  alone. 
The  rich  scorn  to  be  obliged ;  but  the  poor,  that  cannot 
subsist  of  themselves,  will  cheerfully  receive.  So  the  self- 
righteous  will  not  submit  to  the  righteousness  of  God,  but 
the  poor  in  spirit  will  cheerfully  receive  it. 

(5.)  And  lastly,  the  man  that  is  poor  in  spirit  is  an  im- 
portunate beggar  at  the  throne  of  grace. 

Prayer  is  the  natural  language  of  spiritual  poverty.    The 


THE   OBJECTS   OF   DIVINE   FAVOR.  73 

poor,  saith  Solomon,  useth  entreaties  ;  wliereas  they  that  are 
rich  in  their  own, conceit  can  hve  without  prayer,  or  content 
themselves  with  the  careless  formal  performance  of  it.  This 
spiritual  poverty  is  greater  riches  than  the  treasures  of  the 
universe.  May  God  thus  impoverish  us  all ;  may  he  strip 
us  of  all  our  imaginary  grandeur  and  riches,  and  reduce  us 
to  beggars  at  his  door !  But  it  is  time  to  consider  the  other 
character  of  the  happy  man  upon  whom  the  Lord  of  heaven 
will  graciously  look ;  and  that  is, 

II.  Contrition  of  spirit.  To  this  man  will  I  look,  that  is 
of  a  contrite  spirit. 

The  word  contrite  signifies  one  that  is  beaten  or  bruised 
with  hard  blows  or  a  heavy  burden.  And  it  belongs  to  the 
mourning  penitent,  whose  heart  is  broken  and  wounded  for 
sin.  Sin  is  an  intolerable  burden,  that  crushes  and  bruises 
him,  and  he  feels  himself  sore  under  it.  His  stony  heart, 
which  could  not  be  repressed,  but  rather  repelled  the  blow, 
is  taken  away ;  and  now  he  has  a  heart  of  flesh,  easily 
bruised  and  wounded.  He  is  easily  susceptive  of  sorrow 
for  sin,  is  humbled  under  a  sense  of  his  imperfections,  and 
is  really  pained  and  distressed  because  he  can  serve  his  God 
no  better,  but  daily  sins  against  him.     Let  us, 

III.  Consider  the  remaining  character  of  the  happy  man 
to  whom  the  Lord  will  look,  Hhn  that  tremhleth  at  my 
ivord. 

This  character  implies  a  tender  sense  of  the  great  things 
of  the  word,  and  a  heart  easily  impressed  with  them,  as 
the  most  important  realities.  To  one  that  trembles  at  the 
divine  word,  the  threatenings  of  it  do  not  appear  vain  ter- 
rors, nor  great  swelling  words  of  vanity,  but  the  most 
tremendous  realities.  It  reaches  and  pierces  his  heart  as  a 
sharp  two-edged  sword ;  it  carries  power  along  with  it,  and 
he  feels  that  it  is  the  word  of  God,  and  not  of  men,  even 
when  it  is  spoken  by  feeble  mortals.  Thus  he  not  only 
trembles  at  the  terror,  but  at  the  authority  of  the  word ; — 
which  leads  me  to  observe,  farther,  that  he  trembles  with 
filial  veneration  of  the  majesty  of  God  speaking  in  his 
word.  He  considers  it  as  his  voice  who  spake  all  things 
into  being,  and  whose  glory  is  such,  that  a  deep  solemnity 
must  seize  those  that  are  admitted  to  hear  him  speak.  IIo^v 
opposite  is  this  to  the  temper  of  multitudes  who  regard  the 
word  of  God  no  more  than  (with  horror  I  express  it)  the 
word  of  a  child  or  a  fool.     They  will  have  their  own  way, 

7 


74  POOR  AND   CONTRITE  SPIRITS. 

let  him  say  what  he  will.  They  persist  in  sin,  in  defiance 
of  his  threatenings.  They  sit  as  careless  and  stupid  under 
his  word,  as  though  it  were  some  old,  dull,  trifling  story. 
It  seldom  makes  any  impression  upon  their  stony  hearts. 
These  are  the  brave,  undaunted  men  of  the  world,  who 
harden  themselves  against  the  fear  of  futurity.  But,  un- 
happy creatures !  the  God  of  heaven  disdains  to  give  them 
a  gracious  look,  while  he  fixes  his  eyes  upon  the  man  that 
"  is  contrite,  and  that  trembles  at  his  word."  But  let  such 
of  you  as  are  poor  and  contrite  in  spirit,  and  that  tremble 
at  the  word  of  the  Lord,  enter  deeply  into  the  meaning  of 
this  expression,  that  the  Lord  looks  to  you.  He  does  not 
look  on  you  as  a  careless  spectator,  not  concerning  himself 
with  you,  or  caring  what  will  become  of  you,  but  he  looks 
upon  you  as  a  father,  a  friend,  a  benefactor ;  his  looks  are 
efficacious  for  your  good. 

He  looks  upon  you  with  acceptance.  He  looks  upon  you 
as  the  objects  of  his  everlasting  love,  and  purchased  by  the 
blood  of  his  son,  and  he  is  well  pleased  for  his  righteousness^ 
sake.  Agaiuy  he  looks  to  you  so  as  to  take  particular  notice 
of  you.  He  sees  all  the  workings  of  your  heart  towards 
him.  This,  indeed,  might  make  you  tremble,  if  he  looked 
upon  you  with  the  eyes  of  a  judge ;  for  O  how  many 
abominations  must  he  see  in  you !  But  be  of  good  cheer ; 
he  looks  upon  you  with  the  eyes  of  a  friend,  and  with  that 
love  which  covers  a  multitude  of  sins. 

To  conclude,  let  us  view  the  perfection  and  condescension 
of  God  as  illustrated  by  this  subject.  Consider,  ye  poor  in 
spirit,  who  he  is  that  stoops  to  look  upon  such  little  things 
as  you.  It  is  he  whose  throne  is  in  the  highest  heaven ^ 
surrounded  with  myriads  of  angels  and  archangels ;  it  is 
he  who  is  exalted  above  the  blessing  and  praise  of  all  the 
celestial  armies,  and  who  cannot  without  condescension  be- 
hold the  things  that  are  done  in  heaven  ;  it-  is  he  that  looks 
down  upon  such  worms  as  you. 

He  manages  all  the  affairs  of  the  universe ;  he  takes  care 
of  every  individual  in  his  vast  family ;  he  provides  for  all 
his  creatures,  and  yet  he  is  at  leisure  to  regard  you.  He 
takes  as  particular  notice  of  you  as  if  you  were  his  only 
creatures.  What  perfection  is  this  !  what  an  infinite  gTasp 
of  thought !  what  unbounded  power !  and  what  condescen- 
sion too !  I  shall  add  but  this  oac  natural  reflection ;  if  it 
be  so  great  a  happiness  to  have  the  great  God  for  our  por- 


THE   NATURE,    ETC.  75 

tion,  tlien  wliat  is  it  to  be  out  of  liis  favor  ?  to  be  disre- 
garded by  him  ?  Methinks  a  universal  tremor  may  seize 
this  assembly  at  the  very  supposition.  And  is  there  a 
creature  in  the  universe  in  this  wretched  condition  ?  Me- 
thinks all  the  creation  besides  must  pity  him.  Where  is 
the  wretched  being  to  be  found  ?  Must  we  descend  to  hell 
to  find  him  ?  No,  alas  I  there  are  many  such  on  this  earth ! 
nay,  I  must  come  nearer  you  still,  there  are  many  such 
probably  in  this  assembly.  All  among  you  are  such  who 
are  not  poor  and  contrite  in  spirit,  and  do  not  tremble  at 
the  word  of  the  Lord.  And  art  thou  not  one  of  the  miser- 
able number,  0  man?  What!  disregarded  by  the  God 
that  made  thee !  not  favored  with  one  look  of  love  by  the 
author  of  all  happiness !  He  looks  on  thee  indeed,  but  it 
is  with  eyes  of  indignation,  marking  thee  out  for  vengeance ; 
and  canst  thou  be  easy  in  such  a  case  ?  wilt  thou  not  labor 
to  impoverish  thyself,  and  have  thy  heart  broken,  that  thou 
may  est  become  the  objects  of  his  gracious  regard  ? 


VII. 

THE  NATURE  AND  DANGER  OF  MAKING  LIGHT  OF  CHRIST  AND 

HIS  SALVATION. 

"  But  they  made  light  of  it." — Matt  xxii.  5. 

This  parable  represents  the  great  God  under  the  majestic 
idea  of  a  king. 

He  is  represented  as  making  a  marriage  feast  for  his  son ; 
that  is,  God  in  the  gospel  offers  his  Son  Jesus  Christ  as  a 
Saviour  to  the  guilty  sons  of  men,  and,  upon  their  accept- 
ance of  him,  the  most  intimate  endearing  union  and  the 
tenderest  mutual  affection  take  place  between  Christ  and 
them ;  which  may  very  properly  be  represented  by  the 
marriage  relation.  And  God  has  provided  for  them  a  rich 
variety  of  blessings — pardon,  holiness,  and  everlasting 
felicity,  which  may  be  signified  by  a  roj'al  nuptial  feast. 
Verse  2. 

These  blessings  were  first  offered  to  the  Jews,  who  were 
bidden  to  the  wedding  by  Moses  and  the  prophets,  whose 


76  THE  NATURE  AND  BANGER 

great  business  it  was  to  prepare  them,  to  receive  tlie  Mes- 
siah. Verse  3.  The  servants  that  were  sent  to  call  them, 
tliat  were  thus  bidden,  were  the  apostles  and  seventy  dis- 
ciples, whom  Christ  sent  out  to  preach  that  the  gospel  king- 
dom was  just  at  hand.  When  the  Jews  rejected  this  call, 
he  sent  forth  other  servants,  namely,  the  apostles,  after  his 
ascension,  who  were  to  be  more  urgent  in  their  invitations, 
and  to  tell  them  that,  in  consequence  of  Christ's  death,  all 
things  were  now  ready.  It  is  seldom  that  invitations  to  a 
royal  feast  are  rejected;  but,  alas!  the  Jews  rejected  the 
invitations  of  the  gospel,  and  would  not  accep;t  of  its  im- 
portant blessings.  They  made  light  of  Christ,  and  his 
blessings;  they  were  careless  to  them,  and  turned  their 
attention  to  other  things.  These  things  were  not  peculiar 
to  the  Jews,  but  belong  to  lis  sinners  of  the  Gentiles  in  these 
ends  of  the  earth.  Christ  is  still  proposed  to  us ;  to  the 
same  blessings  we  are  invited ;  and  I  have  the  honor,  my 
dear  brethren,  of  appearing  among  you  as  a  servant  of  the 
lieavenly  King,  sent  out  to  urge  you  to  embrace  the  offer. 
I  doubt  not  but  sundry  of  you  have  complied  ;  and  you  are 
enriched  and  made  for  ever. 

But,  alas !  must  I  not  entertain  a  godly  jealousy  over 
some  of  you  ?  Have  you  not  made  light  of  Christ  and  sal- 
vation, to  which  you  have  been  invited  for  so  many  years 
successively  ? 

Your  case  is  really  lamentable,  as  I  hope  you  will  see 
before  I  have  done ;  and  I  most  sincerely  compassionate 
you  from  my  heart.  I  now  rise  up  in  this  solemn  place 
with  the  design  to  address  you  with  the  most  awful  serious- 
ness, and  the  most  compassionate  concern ;  and  did  you 
know  how  much  your  hap]3iness  may  depend  upon  it,  and 
how  anxious  I  am  lest  I  should  fail  in  the  attempt,  I  am 
sure  you  could  not  but  pray  for  me,  and  pity  me.  If  ever 
you  regard  a  man  in  the  most  serious  temper  and  address, 
I  beg  you  would  now  regard  what  I  am  going  to  say  to 
you. 

You  cannot  receive  benefit  from  this,  or  indeed  any  other 
subject,  till  you  apply  it  to  yourselves.  And  therefore,  in 
order  to  reform  you  of  the  sin  of  making  light  of  Christ  and 
the  gospel,  I  must  first  inquire  who  are  guilty  of  it.  For 
this  purpose  let  us  consider, — 

What  it  is  to  make  light  of  Christ  and  the  invitations  of 
the  gospel. 


OF   MAKING   LIGHT   OF   CHRIST.  77 

I  can  think  of  no  plainer  way  to  discover  this  than  to 
inquire,  how  we  treat  those  things  that  we  highly  esteem ; 
and  also,  by  way  of  contrast,  how  we  treat  those  things 
which  we  make  light  of;  and  hence  we  may  discover 
whether  Christ  and  the  gospel  may  be  ranked  among 
the  things  we  esteem,  or  those  we  disregard. 

I.  Men  are  apt  to  remember  and  affectionately  think  of 
the  things  that  they  highly  esteem;  but  as  for  those 
which  they  disregard,  they  can  easily  forget  them,  and 
live  from  day  to  day  without  a  simple  thought  about 
them.  N^ow,  do  you  often  affectionately  remember  the 
Lord  Jesus,  and  do  your  thoughts  affectionately  go  after 
him?  Do  they  pay  him  early  visits  in  the  morning? 
Do  they  make  frequent  excursions  to  him  through  the 
day,  and  do  you  lie  down  with  him  in  your  hearts  at 
night  ?  Is  not  the  contrary  evident  as  to  many  of  you  ? 
Can  you  not  live  from  day  to  day  thoughtless  of  Jesus  and 
your  everlasting  salvation?  Recollect,  now,  how  many 
affectionate  thoughts  have  you  had  of  these  things  through 
the  Aveek  past,  or  in  this  sacred  morning.  And  can  you 
indeed  highly  esteem  those  things  which  you  hardly  ever 
think  of  ?  Follow  your  own  hearts,  sirs ;  observe  which 
way  they  most  naturally  and  freely  run,  and  then  judge 
whether  you  make  light  of  the  gospel  or  not.  Alas !  we 
cannot  persuade  men  to  one  hour's  serious  consideration, 
what  they  should  do  for  an  interest  in  Christ ;  we  cannot 
persuade  them  so  much  as  to  afford  him  only  their  thoughts, 
which  are  such  cheap  things ;  and  yet  they  will  not  be  con- 
vinced that  they  make  light  of  Cnrist.  And  here  lies  the 
infatuation  of  sin :  it  blinds  and  befools  men,  so  that  they 
do  not  know  what  they  think  of,  what  they  love,  or  what 
they  intend ;  much  less  do  they  know  the  habitual  bent  of 
their  souls.  They  often  imagine  themselves  free  from 
those  sins  to  which  they  are  most  enslaved,  and  particularly 
they  think  themselves  innocent  of  the  crime  of  making 
light  of  the  gospel,  when  this  is  the  very  crime  that  is 
likely  to  destroy  them  for  ever. 

II.  The  things  that  men. value,  if  of  such  a  nature  as  to 
admit  of  publication,  will  be  the  frequent  subjects  of  their 
discourse ;  the  thoughts  will  command  the  tongue,  and  fur- 
nish materials  for  conversation.  But  those  things  that 
they  forget  and  disregard  they  will  not  talk  of  Do  not 
they,  therefore,  make  light  of  Christ  and  salvation,  who 


78  THE  NATURE  AND  DANGER 

have  no  delight  in  conversing  about  them,  and  hardly  ever 
mention  the  name  of  Christ  but  in  a  trifling  or  profane 
manner?  And  do  not  such  make  light  of  the  gospel? 
and  is  not  this  the  character  of  many  of  you? 

III.  We  take  the  utmost  pains  and  labor  to  secure  the 
tiling.^  we  value,  and  cannot  be  easy  while  our  property  in 
them  is  uncertain ;  but  those  things  that  we  seldom  think 
of,  we  care  but  little  whether  they  be  ours  or  not. 

Therefore,  have  not  such  of  you  made  light  of  Christ  and 
salvation,  who  have  lived  twenty  or  thirty  years  uncertain 
whether  you  have  an  interest  in  him,  and  yet  have  been 
easy  and  contented,  and  take  no  method  to  be  resolved? 
Are  all  that  hear  me  this  day  determined  on  this  important 
question,  "What  shall  become  of  me  when  I  die?"  Are 
you  all  certain,  upon  good  grounds,  and  after  a  thorough 
trial,  that  you  shall  be  saved  ?  O  that  you  were ;  but, 
alas !  you  are  not.  And  do  you  think  you  would  bear  this 
uncertainty  about  it,  if  you  did  not  make  light  of  salva- 
tion ?  No ;  you  'would  carefully  examine  yourselves ;  you 
would  diligently  peruse  the  Scriptures,  to  find  out  the 
marks  of  those  that  shall  be  saved ;  you  would  anxiously 
consult  those  that  could  direct  you,  and  particularly  pious 
ministers,  who  would  think  it  the  gTeatest  favor  you  could 
do  them-  to  devolve  such  an  office  upon  them. 

O,  sirs,  if  the  gospel  should  pierce  your  hearts  indeed, 
you  could  but  cry  out,  with  the  convicted  Jews,  Men  and 
brethren,  what  shall  lue  do  to  he  saved  ?  * 

lY.  The  things  that  men  highly  esteem,  deeply  and  ten- 
derly affect  them,  and  excite  some  motions  in  their  hearts ; 
but  what  they  make  light  of  makes  no  impression  upon 
them. 

And  if  you  did  not  make  light  of  the  gospel,  what 
workings  would  there  be  in  your  hearts  about  it  ?  what 
solemn,  tender,  and  vigorous  passions  would  it  raise  in  you 
to  hear  such  things  about  the  Avorld  to  come !  Avhat  sorrow 
would  burst  from  your  hearts  at  the  discovery  of  your  sins ! 
what  fear  and  astonishment  would  seize  you  at  the  con- 
sideration of  your  misery !  what  transports  of  joy  and  gra- 
titude would  you  feel  at  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  by 
the  blood  of  Christ !  what  strong  efficacious  purposes  would 
be  raised  in  your  minds  at  the  discovery  of  your  duty  ! 
O  what  hearers  should  we  have,  were  it  not  i'or  this  one 
sin,  the  making  light  of  the  gospel !     AYhereas,  now,  we 


OF   MAKING  LIGHT   OF   CHRIST.  79 

talk  to  tliem  till  they  grow  quite  tired  of  this  dull  old  tale, 
and  this  foolishness  of  preaching.  Alas !  little  would  one 
think,  from  the  air  of  carelessness,  levity,  and  inattention 
that  appears  among  them,  that  they  were  hearing  such 
weighty  truths,  or  have  any  concern  in  them. 

V.  Our  estimate  of  things  may  be  discovered  by  the 
diligence  and  earnestness  of  our  endeavors  about  them. 
Those  things  which  we  highly  value,  we  think  no  pains  too 
great  to  obtain ;  but  what  we  think  lightly  ofj  we  use  no  en- 
deavors about,  or  we  use  them  in  a  languid,  careless  manner. 

And  do  not  they  make  light  of  Christ  and  salvation 
who  do  not  exert  themselves  in  earnest  to  obtain  them,  and 
think  a  great  deal  of  every  little  thing  they  do  in  religion  ? 
,They  are  still  ready  to  cry  out,  "  What  need  of  so  much 
pains?  we  hope  to  be  saved  without  so  much  trouble." 
They  love  and  esteem  the  world,  and  therefore  for  the 
world  they  will  labor  and  toil  all  day,  and  seem  never  to 
think  they  can  do  too  much ;  but  for  the  God  that  made 
them,  for  the  Lord  that  bought  them,  and  for  their  ever- 
lasting salvation,  they  seem  afraid  of  taking  too  much 
pains.  Let  us  preach  to  them  as  long  as  we  will,  we  can- 
not bring  them  to  desire  and  pursue  after  holiness.  Follow 
them  to  their  houses,  and  you  will  hardly  ever  find  them 
reading  a  chapter  in  their  bibles,  or  calling  upon  God  with 
their  families,  so  much  as  once  a  day.  Follow  them  into 
their  retii'ements,  and  you  will  hear  no  penitent  confessions 
of  sin,  no  earnest  cries  for  mercy.  They  will  not  allow  to 
God  that  one  day  in  seven  which  he  has  appropriated  to 
his  own  immediate  service,  but  they  will  steal  and  prosti- 
tute some  even  of  those  sacred  hours  for  idleness,  or  worldly 
conversation,  or  business. 

VI.  That  which  we  highly  value  we  think  we  cannot 
buy  too  dear ;  and  we  are  ready  to  part  with  every  thing 
that  comes  in  competition  with  it.  The  merchant  that 
found  one  pearl  of  great  price,  sold  all  that  he  had  to  pur- 
chase it ;  but  those  things  that  we  make  light  of,  we  will 
not  part  with  things  of  value  for  them. 

Now,  when  Christ  and  the  blessings  of  the  gospel  come 
ill  competition  with  the  world  and  sinful  pleasures,  you 
may  know  which  you  most  highly  esteem,  by  considering 
which  you  are  most  ready  to  part  with.  You  are  called 
to  part  with  every  thing  that  is  inconsistent  with  an  interest 
in  Christ,  and  yet  many  of  you  will  not  do  it.     You  arc 


80  THE   NATUKE   ANIJ   DANGEK 

called  to  resign  all  to  his  will,  to  let  go  those  profits  and 
pleasures,  which  you  must  either  part  with,  or  part  with 
Christ;  and  yet  your  hearts  cling  to  these;  you  grasp 
them  eagerly,  and  nothing  can  tear  them  from  you.  And 
does  not  this  bring  the  matter  to  an  issue,  and  plainly 
show  that  you  make  light  of  Christ  in  comparison  of  these 
things  ? 

YII.  That  which  men  highly  esteem  they  will  so  dili- 
gently pursue  that  you  may  see  their  regard  for  it  in  their 
endeavors  after  it,  if  it  be  a  matter  within  their  reach. 

You  may  therefore  see  that  many  make  light  of  the 
gospel  by  the  little  knowledge  they  have  of  it,  after  all 
the  means  of  instruction  with  which  they  have  been  fa- 
vored. Alas!  where  is  their  improvement  in  holiness? 
How  little  do  they  know  of  their  own  hearts,  of  God  and 
Christ,  and  the  world  to  come,  and  what  they  must  do  to 
be  saved!  Ask  them  about  these  things,  and  you  will 
find  them  stupidly  ignorant.  When  men  that  can  learn  the 
hardest  trade  in  a  few  years ;  when  men  of  bright  parts, 
and,  perhaps,  considerable  learning,  after  living  so  many 
years,  are  still  mere  novices  in  matters  of  religion,  and  do 
not  so  much  as  know  the  terms  of  hfe  according  to  the 
gospel,  is  it  not  plain  that  they  care  but  little  about  these 
things,  and  that  they  make  light  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  all 
his  inestimable  immortal  blessings  ? 

Thus  I  have  ofiered  you  sufficient  matter  of  conviction 
in  this  affair.  And  what  is  the  result?  does  not  conscience 
smite  some  of  you  by  this  time,  and  say,  "  I  am  the  man 
that  have  made  light  of  Christ  and  his  gospel?"  If  not, 
upon  what  evidence  are  you  acquitted?  Some  of  you,  I 
doubt  not,  can  say,  in  the  integrity  of  your  hearts,  "  Alas ! 
I  am  too  careless  about  this  important  affair,  but  God 
knows  I  am  often  deeply  concerned  about  it ;  God  knows 
that  if  ever  I  was  in  earnest  about  any  thing  in  my  life,  it 
has  been  about  my  everlasting  state ;  and  there  is  nothing 
in  all  the  world  that  habitually  lies  so  near  my  heart." 
But  are  not  some  of  you  whom  conscience  does  not  accuse 
of  this  crime  of  too  much  carelessness  about  the  gos]3el, 
not  because  you  are  innocent,  but  because  you  make  so 
light  of  it,  that  you  will  make  no  thorough  search  into  it  ? 
and  does  not  this  alone  prove  you  guilty  ?  I  beseech  such 
to  coDsider  the  folly  of  their  conduct.  Do  you  think  to 
excuse  your  crime,  by  being  careless  whether  you  are 


OF   MAKING   LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  81 

guilty  of  it  or  not  ?  "^  Can  you  avoid  the  precipice  by  shut- 
ting your  eyes?  If  you  discover  your  sin  now,  it  may  be 
of  unspeakable  service,  but  if  you  now  shut  your  eyes  you 
must  see  it  hereafter,  when  it  will  be  too  late ;  when  your 
conviction  will  be  your  punishment.  I  beseech  you  also. 
to  consider  the  dreadful  evil  of  your  conduct  of  making 
lisrht  of  a  Saviour.  And  here  I  shall  offer  such  aro^uments 
to  expose  its  aggravations  as  I  am  sure  cannot  fail  to  con- 
vince and  astonish  you,  if  you  act  like  men  of  reason  and 
understanding. 

I.  Consider  you  make  light  of  him  who  did  not  make 
light  of  you,  v/hen  you  deserved  his  final  neglect  of  you. 
Christ  was  so  far  from  making  light  of  you,  that  he  left 
his  native  heaven,  became  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  died  in 
the  most  exquisite  agonies,  that  a  way  might  be  opened 
for  the  salvation  of  your  miserable  soul ;  and  can  you 
make  light  of  him  after  all  his  regard  to  you?  What 
miracles  of  love  and  mercy  has  he  shown  towards  you ! 
and  can  you  neglect  him  after  all  ?  Angels,  who  are  less 
concerne  1  in  these  things  than  we,  cannot  but  pry  into 
them  with  delightful  wonder;  and  shall  sinners,  who  have 
the  most  intimate  personal  concern  in  them,  make  light  of 
them  ? 

II.  Consider  you  make  light  of  matters  of  the  greatest 
excellency  and  importance  in  the  world.  Oh,  sirs,  you 
know  not  what  it  is  that  you  slight ;  had  you  known  these 
things  you  would  not  have  ventured  to  make  light  of  them 
for  ten  thousand  worlds.  Had  you  been  but  one  day  in 
heaven,  and  seen  and  felt  the  happiness  there !  or  had  you 
been  one  hour  under  the  agonies  of  hell,  you  could  never 
have  trifled  with  salvation. 

"  O  Lord,  that  men  did  but  know  what  everlasting 
glory  and  everlasting  torments  are !  would  they  then  hear 
us  as  they  do  ?  would  they  read  and  think  of  these  things 
as  they  do  ?  I  profess  I  have  been  ready  to  wonder  when 
I  have  heard  such  weighty  things  delivered,  how  people 
can  forbear  crying  out  in  the  congregation,  and  much  more 
do  I  wonder  how  they  can  rest,  till  they  have  gone  to  their 
ministers  and  learned  what  they  shall  do  to  be  saved,  that 
this  great  business  should  be  put  out  of  doubt.  Oh  that 
heaven  and  hell  should  work  no  more  upon  men !  Oh 
that  eternity  should  work  no  more !  Oh  how  can  you  for- 
bear when  you  are  alone  to  think  with  yourselves  what  it 


82  THE  NATURE  AND  DANGER 

is  to  be  everlastingly  in  joy  or  torment !  I  wonder  that 
such  thoughts  do  not  break  your  sleep,  and  that  they  do 
not  crowd  into  your  minds  when  you  are  about  your  labor ! 
I  wonder  how  you  can  almost  do  any  thing  less !  How 
can  you  have  any  quietness  in  your  minds,  how  can  you 
eat,  or  drink,  or  rest,  till  you  have  got  some  ground  of 
everlasting  consolations  ?  Truly,  sirs,  when  I  think  of  the 
weight  of  the  matter,  I  wonder  at  the  best  saints  upon  earth, 
that  they  are  no  better,  and  do  no  more  in  so  weighty  a 
case.  I  wonder  at  those  whom  the  world  accounts  more 
holy  than  needs,  and  scorns  for  making  too  much  ado,  that 
they  can  put  off  Christ  and  their  souls  with  so  little  ;  that 
their  thoughts  are  not  more  serious  in  preparation  for  their 
last  account.  I  wonder  that  they  are  not  a  thousand  times 
more  strict  in  their  lives,  and  more  laborious  and  unwea- 
ried for  the  crown  than  they  are." 

III.  Consider  whose  salvation  it  is  you  make  light  of. 
It  is  your  own.  And  do  you  not  care  what  becomes  of 
your  own  selves  ?  Is  it  nothing  to  you  whether  you  be 
saved  or  damned  for  ever  ?  If  you  slight  Christ  and  love 
sin,  you  virtually  love  death.  You  may  as  well  say,  '*  I 
will  live,  and  yet  neither  eat  nor  drink,"  as  say,  "  I  will  go 
to  heaven,  and  yet  make  light  of  Christ."  And  you  may 
as  well  say  this  in  words  as  by  your  practice. 

TV.  Consider  your  sin  is  aggravated  by  professing  to 
believe  that  gospel  which  you  make  light  of.  For  a  pro- 
fessed infidel  that  does  not  believe  the  Scripture  revelation 
concerning  Christ  and  a  future  state  of  rewards  and  pun- 
ishments, for  such  a  one  to  be  careless  about  these  things 
would  not  be  so  strange;  but  for  you  that  make  these 
things  your  creed,  and  a  part  of  your  religion,  for  you 
that  call  yourselves  Christians,  and  have  been  baptized  into 
this  faith ;  for  you  I  say  to  make  light  of  them,  how  aston- 
ishing !  how  utterly  inexcusable !  What !  believe  that  you 
shall  live  for  ever  in  the  most  jDcrfect  happiness  or  exqui- 
site misery,  and  yet  take  no  pains  to  obtain  the  one,  and 
escape  the  other  ?  Either  say  plainly  "  I  am  no  Christian, 
I  do  not  believe  these  things;"  or  else  let  your  hearts  be 
affected  with  your  belief,  and  let  it  influence  and  govern 
your  lives. 

V.  Consider  what  those  things  are  which  engross  your 
affections,  and  which  tempt  you  to  neglect  Christ  and  your 
salvation.     Have  you  found  out  a  better  friend,  or  a  more 


OF   MAKING   LIGHT   t)F   CHRIST.  83 

substantial  and  lasting  happiness  than  his  salvation  ?  Oh ! 
what  trifles  and  vanities,  what  dreams  and  shadows  are  men 
pursuing,  while  they  neglect  the  important  realities  of  the 
eternal  world !  If  crowns  and  kingdoms,  if  all  the  riches, 
glories,  and  pleasures  of  tbe  world  were  insured  to  you  as 
a  reward  for  making  light  of  Christ,  you  would  even  then 
make  the  most  fooHsh  bargain  possible ;  for  what  are  these 
in  the  scale  to  eternal  joy  or  eternal  tempest?  and  what 
shall  it  jprofit  a  Tuan  if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his 
own  soul  I  Alas !  what  does  the  richest,  the  highest,  the 
most  voluptuous  sinner,  what  does  he  do,  but  lay  up  treas- 
ures of  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath?  Oh,  how  will  the 
unhappy  creatures  torture  themselves  for  ever  with  the  most 
cutting  reflections  for  selling  their  Saviour  and  their  souls 
for  such  trifles ! 

YI.  Your  making  light  of  Christ  and  salvation  is  a  cer- 
tain evidence  that  you  have  no  interest  in  them.  Christ 
will  not  throw  himself  and  his  blessings  away  upon  those 
that  do  not  value  them.  "  Those  who  honor  him  he  will 
honor;  but  they  that  despise  him  shall  be  lightly  esteemed." 
There  is  a  day  coming,  when  you  will  feel  you  cannot 
do  without  him ;  when  you  will  feel  yourselves  perish- 
ing for  want  of  a  Saviour ;  and  then  you  may  go  and 
look  for  a  Saviour  where  you  will ;  then  you  may  shift  for 
yourselves  as  you  can ;  he  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
you ;  the  Saviour  of  sinner^  will  cast  you  off  forever. 

YII.  And  lastly,  the  time  is  hastening  when  you  will 
not  think  so  slightly  of  Christ  and  salvation.  Oh,  sirs, 
.when  God  shall  commission  death  to  tear  your  guilty  souls 
out  of  your  bodies,  when  devils  shall  drag  you  away  to  the 
place  of  torment,  when  you  find  yourselves  condemned  to 
everlasting  fire  by  that  Saviour  whom  you  now  neglect, 
what  would  you  then  give  for  a  Saviour  ?  When  divine  jus- 
tice brings  in  its  heavy  charges  against  you,  and  you  have 
nothing  to  answer,  how  will  you  then  cry,  '^^Oh,  if  I  had 
chosen  Jesus  for  my  Saviour,  he  would  have  answered  all." 
When  you  see  that  the  world  has  deserted  you,  that  your 
companions  in  sin  have  deceived  themselves  and  you,  and 
all  your  merry  days  are  over  for  ever,  would  you  not  then 
give  ten  thousand  worlds  for  Christ  ?  And  will  you  not 
now  think  him  worthy  of  your  esteem  and  earnest  pur- 
suit ? 

And  now,  dear  immortal  souls,  I  have  discovered  the 


84  THE   CONNECTION   BETWEEN 

nature  and  clanger  of  this  common  but  unsuspected  and 
unlamented  sin,  making  light  of  Christ.  ^  I  have  delivered 
my  message,  and  now  I  must  leave  it  with  you,  imploring 
the  blessing  of  God  upon  it.  I  cannot  follow  you  home  to 
your  houses  to  see  what  effect  it  has  upon  you,  or  to  make 
application  of  it  to  each  of  you  in  particular ;  but,  0  may 
yoLir  consciences  undertake  this  office.  Whenever  you 
spend  another  prayerless,  thoughtless  day,  whenever  you 
give  yourselves  up  to  sinful  pleasures,  or  an  over-eager 
pursuit  of  the  world,  may  your  conscience  become  your 
jDreacher,  and  sting  you  with  this  expostulation :  "  Alas  ! 
is  this  the  effect  of  all  I  have  heard  ?  Do  I  make  light  of 
Christ  and  the  concerns  of  religion  ?  Oh,  what  will  be  the 
end  of  such  a  conduct !" 

I  cannot  but  fear,  after  all,  that  some  of  you,  as  usual, 
will  continue  careless  and  impenitent.  Well,  when  you 
are  suffering  the  punishment  of  this  sin  in  hell,  remember 
that  you  were  warned,  and  acquit  me  for  being  accessory 
to  your  ruin.  And  when  we  all  appear  before  the  supreme 
Judge,  and  I  am  called  to  give  an  account  of  my  ministry : 
when  I  am  asked,  "  Did  you  warn  those  creatures  of  their 
danger  ?  Did  you  lay  before  them  their  guilt  in  making 
light  of  these  things?"  you  will  allow  me  to  answer,  "  Yes, 
Lord,  I  warned  them  in  the  best  manner  I  could,  but  they 
Avould  not  believe  me  ;  they  would  not  regard  what  I  said, 
though  enforced  by  the  authority  of  thy  awful  name,  and 
confirmed  by  thine  own  word."  O  sirs,  must  I  give  in  this 
accusation  against  any  of  you  ?  No,  rather  have  mercy 
upon  yourselves,  and  have  mercy  upon  me,  that  I  may  give 
an  account  of  you  with  joy  and  not  with  grief. 


VIII. 

THE  CONNECTION  BETWEEN  PRESENT  HOLINESS  AND  FUTURE 

FELICITY. 

"  Follow  holiness  ;  without  which  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord." — Heb.  xii.  14. 

As  the  human  soul  was  originally  designed  for  the  en- 
joyment of  no  less  a  portion  than  the  cvcr-blessed  God,  it 
was  formed  with  a  strong  innate  tendency  towards  happi- 


HOLmESS   AND   FELICITY.  85 

ness.     It  has  not  only  an  eager  fondness  for  existence,  but 
for  some  good  to  render  its  existence  happy.     And  the 
privation  of  being  itself  is  not  more  terrible  than  the  pri- 
vation of  all  its  blessings.    It  is  true,  in  the  present  degen- 
eracy of  human  nature,  this  vehement  desire  is  miserably 
perverted  and  misplaced ;  man  seeks  his  supreme  happi- 
ness in  sinful,  or  at  least  in  created  enjoyments,  forgetful 
of  the  uncreated  fountain  of  bliss ;  but  yet  still  h&  seeks 
happiness ;  still  his  innate  impetus  is  predominant,   and 
though  he  mistakes  the  means,  yet  he  still  retains  a  general 
aim  at  the  end.     Hence  he  ransacks  this  lower  world  in 
quest  of  felicity  ;  climbs  in  search  of  it  the  slippery  ascent 
of  honor  ;  hunts  for  it  in  the  treasures  of  gold  and  silver  ; 
or  plunges  for  it  in  the  foul  streams  of  sensual  pleasures. 
But  since  all  the  sordid  satisfaction  resulting  from  these 
things  is  not  adequate  to  the  unbounded  cravings  of  the 
mind,  and  since  the  satisfaction  is  transitory  and  perishing, 
or  we  may  be  wrenched  from  it  by  the  inexorable  hand  of 
death,  the  mind  breaks  through  the  limits  of  the  present 
enjoyments,  and  even  of  the  lower  creation,  and  ranges 
through  the  unknown  scenes  of  futurity  in  quest  of  some 
untried  good.    Hope  makes  excursions  into  the  dark  dura- 
tion between  the  present  now  and  the  grave,  and  roves 
through  the  regions  of  immensity  after  some  complete  feli- 
city to  supply  the  defects  of  sublunary  enjoyments.   Hence, 
though  men,  till  their  spirits  are  refined  by  regenerating 
grace,  have  no  relish  for  celestial  joys,  but  pant  for  the  poor 
pleasures  of  time  and  sense,  yet  as  they  cannot  avoid  the 
unwelcome  consciousness  that  death  will  ere  long  rend 
them  from  these  sordid  and  momentary  enjoyments,  are 
constrained  to  indulge  the  hope  of  bliss  in  a  future  state ; 
and  they  promise  themselves  happiness  in  another  world, 
when  they  can  no  longer  enjoy  any  in  this.    And  as  reason 
and  revelation  unitedly  assure  them  that  this  felicity  can- 
not then  consist  in  sensual  indulgences,  they  generally  ex- 
pect it  will  be  of  a  more  refined  and  spiritual  nature,  and 
flow  more  immediate  from  the  Father  of  spirits. 

He  must  indeed  be  miserable  that  abandons  all  hope  of 
this  blessedness.  The  Christian  religion  affords  him  no 
other  prospect  but  that  of  eternal,  intolerable  misery  in  the 
regions  of  darkness  and  despair ;  and  if  he  flies  to  infideli- 
ty as  a  refuge,  it  can  afford  him  no  comfort  but  the  shock- 
ing prospect  of  annihilation. 

8 


86  THE   CONNECTION"   BETWEEN 

ISTow,  if  men  were  pressed  into  heaven  by  an  unavoid- 
able fatality, — if  happiness  was  promiscuously  promised  to 
them  without  distinction  of  characters, — then  they  might 
indulge  a  blind,  unexamined  hope,  and  never  perplex 
themselves  with  anxious  inquiries  about  it.  And  he  might 
justly  be  deemed  a  malignant  disturber  of  the  repose  of 
mankind  that  would  attempt  to  shock  their  hope,  and 
frighten  them  with  causeless  scruples. 

But  if  the  light  of  nature  intimates,  and  the  voice  of 
Scripture  proclaims  aloud,  that  this  eternal  felicity  is  re- 
served only  for  persons  of  particular  characters ;  and  that 
multitudes  who  entertained  pleasing  hopes  of  it,  are  con- 
founded with  an  eternal  disappointment,  and  shall  suffer 
an  endless  duration  in  the  most  terrible  miseries,  we  ought 
each  of  us  to  take  the  alarm,  and  examine  the  grounds  of 
our  hope,  that,  if  they  appear  sufficient,  we  may  allow  our- 
selves a  rational  satisfaction  in  them ;  and,  if  they  are 
found  delusive,  we  may  abandon  them  and  seek  for  a  hope 
which  will  bear  the  test  now  while  it  may  be  obtained. 
And,  however  disagreeable  the  task  be  to  give  our  fellow- 
creatures  even  profitable  uneasiness,  yet  he  must  appear  to 
the  impartial  a  friend  to  the  best  interests  of  mankind,  who 
points  out  the  evidences  and  foundation  of  a  rational  and 
Scriptural  hope,  and  exposes  the  various  mistakes  to  which 
we  are  subject  in  so  important  a  case. 

And  if,  when  we  look  around  us,  we  find  persons  full  of 
the  hopes  of  heaven,  who  can  give  no  Scriptural  evidences 
of  them  to  themselves  or  others  ;  if  we  find  many  indulging 
this  pleasing  delusion,  whose  practices  are  mentioned  by 
God  himself  as  the  certain  marks  of  perishing  sinners ;  and 
if  persons  are  so  tenacious  of  these  hopes,  that  they  will 
retain  them  to  their  everlasting  ruin,  unless  the  most  con- 
victive  methods  are  taken  to  undeceive  them ;  then  it  is 
high  time  for  those  to  whom  the  care  of  souls  is  intrusted, 
to  use  the  greatest  plainness  for  this  purpose. 

This  is  my  chief  design  at  present,  and  to  this  my  text 
naturally  leads  me.     It  contains  these  doctrines  : 

First,  That  without  holiness  here,  it  is  impossible  for  us 
to  enjoy  heavenly  happiness  in  the  future  world. 

Secondly,  That  this  consideration  should  induce  us  to 
use  the  most  earnest  endeavors  to  obtain  the  heavenly  hap- 
piness. Pursue  holiness,  because  ivithout  it  no  man  can  see 
the  Lord. 


HOLINESS   AND   FELICITY.  87 

Hence  I  am  naturally  led, 

I.  To  explain  the  nature  of  that  holiness,  without  ivhich 
no  man  shall  see  the  Lord. 

II.  To  show  what  endeavors  should  be  used  to  attain  it. 
And, 

III.  To  urge  you  to  use  them  by  the  consideration  of  the 
absolute  necessity  of  holiness. 

I.  I  am  to  explain  the  nature  of  holiness.  And  I  shall 
give  you  «,  brief  definition  of  it,  and  then  mention  some  of 
those  dispositions  and  practices  which  naturally  flow  from 
it.  The  most  intelligible  description  of  holiness,  as  it  is  in- 
herent in  us,  may  be  this :  "  It  is  a  conformity  in  heart  and 
practice  to  the  revealed  will  of  God."  As  the  Supreme 
Being  is  the  standard  of  all  perfection,  his  holiness  in  par- 
ticular is  the  standard  of  ours.  Then  we  are  holy  when 
his  image  is  stamped  upon  our  hearts  and  reflected  in  our 
lives  ;  so  the  Apostle  defines  it.  And  that  ye  put  on  the  new 
inan,  which  after  Ood  is  created  in  righteousness  and  true  holi- 
ness. Hence  holiness  may  be  defined,  "  A  conformity  to 
God  in  his  moral  perfections."  But,  as  we  cannot  have  a 
distinct  knowledge  of  these  perfections  but  as  they  are 
manifested  by  the  revealed  will  of  God,  I  choose  to  define 
holiness,  as  above,  "  A  conformity  to  his  revealed  will." 
jSTow  his  revealed  will  comprises  both  the  law  and  the 
gospel ;  the  law  informs  us  of  the  duty  which  we,  as  crea- 
tures, owe  to  God  as  a  being  of  supreme  excellency,  as  our 
Creator  and  benefactor,  and  to  men  as  our  fellow-creatures ; 
and  the  gospel  informs  us  of  the  duty  which  as  sinners  we 
owe  to  God,  as  reconcilable  through  a  Mediator. 

From  this  definition  of  holiness  it  appears,  on  the  one 
hand,  that  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  see  the  Lord ;  for, 
unless  our  dispositions  are  conformed  to  him,  we  cannot  be 
happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  him ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  they  who  are  made  thus  holy,  are  prepared  for  the 
vision  and  fruitioil  of  his  face,  as  they  can  relish  the  divi- 
nest  pleasure. 

But  as  a  concise  definition  of  holiness  may  give  an  audi- 
tory but  very  imperfect  ideas  of  it,  I  shall  expatiate  upon 
the  dispositions  and  practices  in  which  it  consists,  or  which 
naturally  result  from  it ;  and  they  are  such  as  follow  : 

1.  A  delight  in  God  for  his  holiness.  Self-love  may 
prompt  us  to  love  him  for  his  goodness  to  us ;  and  so  many 
unregenerate  men  may  have  a  selfish  love  to  God  on  this 


88  THE   CONNECTION   BETWEEN 

account.  But  to  love  God  because  lie  is  infinitely  holy, 
because  he  bears  an  infinite  detestation  to  all  sin,  and  will 
not  indulge  his  creatures  in  the  neglect  of  the  least  instance 
of  holiness,  but  commands  them  to  be  holy  as  he  is  holy, 
this  is  a  disposition  connatural  to  a  renewed  soul  only,  and 
argues  a  conformity  to  his  image.  Here  I  would  make  a 
remark,  which  may  God  deeply  impress  on  your  hearts, 
and  which  for  that  purpose  I  shall  subjoin  to  each  particu- 
lar, that  holiness  in  fallen  man  is  supernatural ;  I  mean,  we 
are  not  born  with  it,  we  give  no  discoveries  of  it,  till  we 
have  experienced  a  great  change.  Thus  we  find  it  in  the 
3resent  case :  we  have  no  natural  love  to  God  because  of 
lis  infinite  purity  and  hatred  to  all  sin ;  nay,  we  would 
love  him  more  did  he  give  us  greater  indulgences ;  and  I 
am  afraid  the  love  of  some  persons  is  founded  upon  a  mis- 
take; they  love  him  because  they  imagine  he  does  not 
hate  sin,  nor  them  for  it,  so  much  as  he  really  does ;  be- 
cause they  think  he  will  bring  them  to  heaven  at  last,  let 
them  live  as  they  list.  It  is  no  wonder  they  love  such  a 
soft,  easy,  passive  being  as  this  imaginary  Deity  ;  but  did 
they  see  the  lustre  of  that  holiness  of  God  which  dazzles 
the  celestial  armies ;  did  they  but  know  the  terrors  of  his 
justice,  and  his  implacable  indignation  against  sin,  their 
innate  enmity  would  show  its  poison,  and  their  hearts 
would  rise  against  God  in  all  those  horrible  blasphemies 
with  which  awakened  sinners  are  so  frequently  shocked. 

But  to  a  regenerate  mind,  how  strong,  how  transporting 
are  the  charms  of  holiness !  Such  a  mind  joins  the  anthem 
of  seraphs  with  the  divinest  complacency,  and  anticipates 
the  song  of  glorified  saints.  Who  would,  not  fear  thee,  0 
Lord,  and  glorify  thy  name,  for  thou  only  art  holy  !  The 
perfections  of  God  lose  their  lustre,  or  sink  into  objects  of 
terror  or  contempt,  if  this  glorious  attribute  be  abstracted. 
Without  holiness,  power  becomes  tyranny ;  -  omniscience, 
craft;  justice,  revenge  and  cruelty ;  and* even  the  amiable 
attribute  of  goodness  loses  its  charms  and  degenerates  into 
a  blind,  promiscuous  prodigality,  or  foolish,  undiscerning 
fondness :  but  when  these  perfections  are  clothed  in  the 
beauties  of  holiness,  how  godlike,  how  majestic,  how  lovely 
and  attractive  do  they  appear  !  and  with  what  complacence 
does  a  mind  fashioned  after  the  divine  image  acquiesce  in 
them !  A  selfish  sinner  has  nothing  in  view  but  his  own 
happiness ;  and  if  this  be  obtained,  he  has  no  anxiety  about 


HOLINESS   AND   FELICITY.  89 

the  illustration  of  the  divine  purity ;  but  it  recommends 
happiness  itself  to  a  sanctified  soul,  that  it  cannot  be  com- 
municated in  a  way  inconsistent  with  the  beauty  of  holi- 
ness. 

,  2.  Holiness  consists  in  a  hearty  complacence  in  the 
law  of  God,  because  of  its  purity.  The  law  is  the  transcript 
of  the  moral  perfections  of  God ;  and  if  we  love  the  original 
we  shall  love  the  copy.  Accordingly,  it  is  natural  to  a  re- 
newed mind  to  love  the  divine  law,  because  it  is  perfectly 
holy ;  because  it  makes  no  allowance  for  the  least  sin,  and 
requires  every  duty  that  it  becomes  us  to  perform  towards 

But  is  this  our  natural  disposition  ?  Is  this  the  dispo- 
sition of  the  generality  ?  Do  they  not,  on  the  contrary, 
secretly  find  fault  with  the  law,  because  it  is  so  strict? 
And  their  common  objection  against  that  holiness  of  life 
which  it  enjoins,  is  that  they  cannot  bear  to  be  so  precise. 
And,  if  they  love  the  law  at  all,  as  they  profess  to  do,  it  is 
upon  supposition  that  it  is  not  so  strict  as  it  really  is,  but 
grants  them  greater  indulgences. 

Hence  it  appears  that,  if  we  are  made  holy  at  all,  it  must 
be  by  a  supernatural  change ;  and,  when  that  is  effected, 
what  a  strange  and  happy  alteration  does  the  sinner  per- 
ceive ?  with  what  pleasure  does  he  resign  himself  a  willing 
subject  to  that  law  to  which  he  was  once  so  averse?  And 
when  he  fails,  (as  alas !  he  does  in  mginy  things,.)  how  is  he 
humbled?  he  does  not  lay  the  fault  upon  the  law  as  requi- 
ring impossibilities,  but  lays  the  whole  fault  upon  himself 
as  a  corrupt  sinner. 

8.  Holiness  consists  in  a  hearty  complacence  in  the 
gospel  method  of  salvation,  because  it  tends  to  illustrate 
the  moral  perfections  of  the  Deity,  and  to  discover  the  beau- 
ties of  holiness. 

The  gospel  i  nforms  us  of  two  grand  pre-requisites  to  the 
salvation  of  the  fallen  sons  of  men,  namely,  the  satisfaction 
of  divine  justice  by  the  obedience  and  passion  of  Christ, 
that  God  might  be  reconciled  to  them  consistently  with  his 
perfections ;  and  the  sanctification  of  sinners  by  the  efficacy 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  they  might  be  capable  of  enjoying 
God,  and  that  he  might  maintain  intimate  communion  with 
them  Avithout  any  stain  to  his  holiness.  These  two  gTand 
articles  contain  the  substance  of  the  gospel,  and  our  acqui- 
escence in  them  is  the  substance  of  that  evangelical  obedi- 

8* 


90  THE   CONNECTION   BETWEEN 

ence  whicli  it  requires  of  us,  and  wliich  is  essential  to  holi- 
ness in  a  flxllen  creature. 

Now,  it  is  evident  that,  without  either  of  these,  the  mor- 
al perfections  of  the  Deity,  particularly  his  holiness,  could 
not  be  illustrated,  or  even  secured  in  the  salvation  of  a  sin- 
ner. Had  he  received  an  apostate  race  into  favor,  who 
had  conspired  in  the  most  unnatural  rebellion  against  him, 
without  any  satisfaction,  his  holiness  would  have  been 
eclipsed ;  it  would  not  have  appeared  that  he  had  so  in- 
vincible an  abhorrence  of  sin,  so  zealous  a  regard  for  the 
vindication  of  his  own  holy  law  ;  or  to  his  veracity,  which 
had  threatened  condign  punishment  to  offenders.  But  by 
the  satisfaction  of  Christ,  his  hoUness  is  illustrated  in  the 
most  conspicuous  manner ;  now  it  appears,  that  God  would 
upon  no  terms  save  a  sinner  but  that  of  adequate  satisfac- 
tion, and  that  no  other  was  sufficient  but  the  suffering  of 
his  coequal  Son,  otherwise  he  would  not  have  appointed 
him  to  sustain  the  character  of  Mediator  ;  and  now  it  ap- 
pears that  his  hatred  of  sin  is  such  that  he  would  not  let  it 
pass  unpunished  even  in  his  own  Son,  when  only  imputed 
to  him.  In  like  manner,  if  sinners,  Avhile  unholy,  were 
admitted  into  communion  with  God  in  heaven,  it  would 
obscure  the  glory  of  his  holiness,  and  it  would  not  then 
appear  that  such  was  the  purity  of  his  nature,  that  he 
could  have  no  fellowship  with  sin.  But  now  it  is  evident 
that  even  the  blood  of  Immanuel  cannot  purchase  heaven 
to  be  enjoyed  by  a  sinner  while  unholy,  but  that  every  one 
that  arrives  at  heaven  must  first  be  sanctified.  An  unholy 
sinner  can  be  no  more  saved,  while  such,  by  the  gospel 
than  by  the  law ;  but  here  lies  the  difference,  that  the  gos- 
pel makes  provision  for  his  sanctification,'  which  is  gradually 
carried  on  here,  and  perfected  at  death,  before  his  admission 
into  the  heavenly  glory. 

Now  it  is  the  genius  of  true  holiness  to  acquiesce  in  both 
these  articles.  A  sanctified  soul  places  all  its  dependence 
on  the  righteousness  of  Christ  for  acceptance.  So  a  holy 
person  rejoices  that  the  way  of  holiness  is  the  appointed 
way  to  heaven.  He  is  not  forced  to  be  holy  merely  by  the 
servile  consideration  that  he  must  be  so  or  perish,  and  so 
unwillingly  submits  to  the  necessity  which  he  cannot  avoid, 
when  in  the  mean  time,  were  it  put  to  his  choice,  he  would 
choose  to  reserve  some  sins,  and  neglect  some  painful  du- 
ties.    So  far  from  this,  that  he  delights  in  the  gospel  con- 


HOLINESS  AND   FELICITY.  91 

stitiition,  because  it  requires  universal  holiness,  and  heaven 
would  be  less  agreeable,  were  he  to  carry  even  the  least  sin 
there. 

This  is  solid,  rational  religion,  fit  to  be  depended  upon, 
in  opposition  to  the  antinomian  licentiousness,  the  freaks 
of  enthusiasm,  and  the  irrational  flights  of  passion  and 
imagination  on  the  one  hand ;  and  in  opposition  to  formali- 
ty, mere  morality,  and  the  self-sprung  religion  of  nature  on 
the  'Other.  And  is  it  not  evident  we  are  destitute  of  this 
by  nature  ?  Men  naturally  are  averse  to  this  gospel 
method  of  salvation ;  they  will  not  submit  to  the  righteous- 
ness of  God,  but  fix  their  dependence,  in  part  at  least, 
upon  their  own  merit.  Their  proud  hearts  cannot  bear 
the  thought  that  all  their  performances  must  go  for  nothing 
in  their  justification.  They  are  also  averse  to  the  way  of 
holiness ;  hence  they  either  abandon  the  expectation  of 
heaven,  and  since  they  cannot  obtain  it  in  their  sinful  ways, 
desperately  conclude  to  go  on  in  sin,  come  what  will ;  how 
many  either  give  up  their  hopes  of  heaven  rather  than  part 
with  sin,  or  vainly  hold  them,  while  their  dispositions  and 
practices  prove  them  groundless. 

4.  Holiness  consists  in  an  habitual  delight  in  all  the  du- 
ties of  holiness  towards  God  and  man,  and  an  earnest  desire 
for  communion  with  God  in  them.  This  is  the  natural  re- 
sult of  all  the  foregoing  particulars.     If  we  love  God  for 

-  his  holiness,  we  shall  delight  in  that  service  in  which  our 
conformity  to  him  consists ;  if  we  love  his  law,  we  shall 
delight  in  that  obedience  which  it  enjoins ;  and  if  we  take 
complacence  in  the  evangelical  method  of  salvation,  we 
shall  take  delight  -  in  that  holiness,  without  which  we  can- 
not enjoy  it. 

This  consideration  also  shows  us  that  holiness  in  us 
must  be  supernatural;  surely,  you  must  be  changed,  or 
you  can  have  no  relish  for  the  enjoyment  of  heavenly  hap- 
piness. 

•  Thus  I  have,  as  plainly  as  I  could,  described  the  nature 
and  properties  of  that  holiness,  without  which  no  man  shall 

,  see  the  Lord ;  and  they  who  are  possessed  of  it  may  lift  up 
their  heads  with  joy,  assured  that  God  has  begun  a  good 
work  in  them,  and  that  he  will  carry  it  on ;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  they  that  are  destitute  of  it  may  be  assured, 
that,  unless  they  are  made  new  creatures,  they  cannot  see 
the  Lord.     I  come, 


92  THE    CONNECTION   BETWEEN 

II.  To  show  you  the  endeavors  we  should  use  to  obtain 
this  holiness.     And  they  are  such  as  these : 

1.  Endeavor  to  know  v^^hether  you  are  holy  or  not,  by 
close  examination.  It  is  hard,  indeed,  for  some  to  know 
positively  that  they  are  holy,  as  they  are  perplexed  with 
appearances  of  realities,  and  the  fears  of  counterfeits ;  but 
it  is  then  easy  for  many  to  conclude  negatively  that  they 
are  not  holy,  as  they  have  not  the  likeness  of  it.  To  de- 
termine this  point  is  of  great  use  to  our  successful  seeking 
after  holiness.  That  an  unregenerate  sinner  should  attend 
on  the  means  of  grace  with  other  aims  than  one  that  has 
reason  to  believe  himself  sanctified,  is  evident.  The  anxie- 
ties, sorrows,  desires,  and  endeavors  of  the  one  should  run 
in  a  very  different  channel  from  those  of  the  other.  The 
one  should  look  upon  himself  as  a  guilty  and  condemned 
sinner ;  the  other  should  allow  himself  the  pleasure  of  a 
justified  state  :  the  one  should  pursue  after  the  implanta- 
tion ;  the  other  after  the  increase  of  holiness :  the  one 
should  indulge  a  seasonable  concern  about  his  lost  con- 
dition ;  the  other  repose  an  humble  confidence  in  God  as 
reconciled  to  him :  the  one  should  look  upon  the  threaten- 
ings  of  God  as  his  doom  ;  the  other  embrace  the  promises 
as  his  portion.  Hence  it  follows  that,  while  we  are  mis- 
taken about  our  state,  we  cannot  use  endeavors  after  holi- 
ness in  a  proper  manner.  We  act  like  a  physician  that 
applies  medicines  at  random,  without  knowing  the  disease. 
Let  us  be  impartial,  and  proceed  according  to  evidence. 
If  we  find  those  marks  of  holiness  in  heart  and  life  which 
have  been  mentioned,  let  not  an  excessive  scrupulosity 
frighten  us  from  drawing  the  happy  conclusion :  and  if  we 
find  them  not,  let  us  exercise  so  much  wholesome  severity 
against  ourselves,  as  honestly  to  conclude  we  are  unholy 
sinners,  and  must  be  renewed  before  we  can  see  the  Lord. 
The  conclusion,  no  doubt,  will  give  you  painful  anxiety : 
but  if  you  were  my  dearest  friend,  I  could  not  form  a  kinder 
wish  for  you,  than  that  you  might  be  incessantly  distressed 
with  it  till  you  are  born  again. 

2.  Awake,  arise,  and  betake  yourself  in  earnest  to  all 
the  means  of  grace.  Your  life,  your  eternal  life,  is  con- 
cerned, and  therefore  it  calls  for  all  the  ardor  and  earnest- 
ness you  are  capable  of  exerting.  Accustom  yourself  to 
meditation,  converse  with  yourselves  in  retirement,  and 
live  no  longer  strangers  at  home.     Bead  the  Word  of  God 


HOLINESS   AND   FELICITY.  93 

and  otlier  good  books,  with  diligence,  attention,  and  self- 
application.  Attend  on  tlie  public  ministrations  of  the 
gospel,  not  as  a  trifler,  but  as  one  that  sees  his  eternal  all 
concerned.  Shun  the  tents  of  sin,  the  rendezvous  of  sin- 
ners, and  associate  with  those  that  have  experienced  the 
change  you  want,  and  can  give  you  proper  directions. 
Prostrate  yourself  before  the  Grod  of  heaven,  confess  your 
sin,  implore  his  mercy,  cry  to  him  night  and  day,  and  give 
him  no  rest,  till  the  importunity  prevail,  and  you  take  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  by  violence. 

But  after  all,  acknowledge  that  it  is  God  that  must  work 
in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do,  and  when  you  have  done  all 
these  things  you  are  but  unprofitable  servants.  I  do  not 
prescribe  these  directions,  as  though  these  means  could  ef- 
fect holiness  in  you ;  no,  they  can  no  more  do  it  than  a 
pen  can  write  without  a  hand.  It  is  the  Holy  Spirit's 
province  alone  to  sanctify  a  degenerate  sinner,  but  he  is 
wont  to  do  it  while  we  are  waiting  upon  him  in  the  use  of 
these  means,  though  our  best  endeavors  give  us  no  title  to 
his  grace ;  but  he  may  justly  leave  us,  after  all,  in  that 
state  of  condemnation  and  corruption  into  which  we  have 
voluntarily  brought  ourselves.     I  go  on : 

III.  And  lastly,  to  urge  you  to  the  use  of  these  means, 
from  the  consideration  mentioned  in  the  text,  the  absolute 
necessity  of  holiness  to  the  enjoyment  of  heavenly  happi- 
ness. 

Here  I  would  show  that  holiness  is  absolutely  necessary, 
and  that  the  consideration  of  its  necessity  may  strongly  en- 
force the  pursuit  of  it.  The  necessity  of  holiness  appears 
from  the  unchangeable  appointment  of  Heaven,  and  the 
nature  of  thino;s. 

1.  The  unchangeable  appointment  of  God  excludes  all 
the  unholy  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  Eev.  xxi.  27 : 
''And  there  shall  in  no  ivise  enter  into  it  any  thing  thatdefileth, 
neither  luhatsoever  worheth  abomination,  or  raaketh  a  lie  ;  hut 
they  which  are  ivritten  in  the  LaniVs  hook  of  life.  It  is  most 
astonishing  that  many  who  profess  to  believe  the  divine 
authority  of  the  Scriptures,  will  yet  indulge  vain  hopes  of 
heaven,  in  opposition  to  the  plainest  declarations  of  eternal 
truth.  But  though  there  were  no  positive  constitution  ex- 
cluding the  unholy  from  heaven,  yet, 

2.  The  very  nature  of  things  excludes  sinners  from 
heaven ;  that  is,  it  is  impossible,  in  the  nature  of  things, 


94  THE   CONNPXTION,    ETC. 

that  while  they  are  unholy,  they  could  receive  happiness 
from  the  employments  and  entertainments  of  the  heavenly 
world.  If  these  consisted  in  the  affluence  of  those  things 
which  sinners  delight  in  here;  if  its  enjoyments  were 
earthly  riches,  pleasures,  and  honors ;  if  its  employments 
were  the  amusements  of  the  present  life,  then  they  might 
be  happy  there,  as  far  as  their  sordid  natures  are  capable 
of  happiness.  But  these  trifles  have  no  place  in  heaven. 
The  felicity  of  that  state  consists  in  the  contemplation  of 
the  divine  perfections,  and  their  displays  in  the  works  of 
creation,  providence,  and  redemption ;  hence  it  is  described 
by  seeing  the  Lord  ;  and  a  state  of  knowledge,  (1  Cor.  xiii. 
10-12 ;)  and  a  complacency  in  God  as  a  portion,  and  in 
perpetual  serving  and  praising  the  Lord  ;  and  hence  adora- 
tion is  generally  mentioned  as  the  employment  of  the  hosts 
of  heaven.  These  are  the  entertainments  of  heaven,  and 
they  that  cannot  find  supreme  happiness  in  these,  cannot 
find  it  in  heaven.  But  it  is  evident  these  things  could  af- 
ford no  satisfaction  to  an  unholy  person.  He  would  pine 
away  at  the  heavenly  feast,  for  want  of  appetite  for  the 
entertainment;  a  holy  God  would  be  an  object  of  horror 
rather  than  delight  to  him,  and  his  service  would  be  a 
weariness  as  it  is  now.  Hence  it  appears,  that  if  we  do  not 
place  our  supreme  delight  in  these  things,  we  cannot  be 
happy  hereafter  :  for  there  will  be  no  change  of  dispositions 
in  a  future  state,  but  only  the  perfection  of  those  predomi- 
nant in  us  here,  whether  good  or  evil.  Either  heaven 
must  be  changed,  or  the  sinner,  before  he  can  be  happy 
there. 

We  see,  then,  that  holiness  is  absolutely  necessary ;  and 
what  a  great  inducement  should  this  consideration  be  to 
pursue  it ;  if  we  do  not  see  the  Lord  we  shall  never  see 
good.  We  are  cut  off  at  death  from  all  earthly  enjoy- 
ments, and  can  no  longer  make  experiments  to  satisfy  our 
unbounded  desires  with  them;  and  we  have  no  God  to 
supply  their  room.  We  are  banished  from  all  the  joys  of 
Heaven,  and  how  vast,  how  unconceivably  vast,  is  the  loss ! 
We  are  doomed  to  the  regions  of  darkness  for  ever,  to  bear 
the  vengeance  of  eternal  fire,  to  feel  the  lashes  of  a  guilty 
conscience,  and  to  spend  an  eternity  in  a  horrid  intimacy 
with  infernal  ghosts ;  and  will  we  not  then  rather  follow 
holiness,  than  incur  so  dreadful  a  doom  ?  By  the  terrors 
of  the  Lord,  then,  be  persuaded  to  break  off  your  sins  by 


THE   DIVINE   MERCY,    ETC.       -  95 

righteousness,   and  follow  holiness,  without  ivMch  no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord. 


^  ♦» 


IX. 

THE  DmNE  MERCY  TO  MOURNING  PENITENTS. 

"  I  have  surely  heard  Ephraim  bemoaning  himself  thus  ;  Thou  hast  chastised 
me,  and  I  was  chastised,  as  a  bullock  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke :  turn 
thou  me,  and  I  shall  be  turned  ;  for  thou  art  the  Lord  my  God.  Surely  after 
that  I  was  turned,  I  repented ;  and  after  that  I  was  instructed,  I  smote 
upon  my  thigh  :  I  was  ashamed,  yea,  even  confounded,  because  1  did  bear 
the  reproach  of  my  youth.  Is  Ephraim  my  dear  son  ?  is  he  a  pleasant 
child  ?  for  since  I  spoke  against  him,  I  do  earnestly  remember  him  still : 
therefore  my  bowels  are  troubled  for  him  :  1  will  surely  have  mercy  upon 
him,  saith  the  Lord." — Jer.  xxxi.  18-20. 

In  these  words,  the  mourning  language  of  a  penitent 
child,  sensible  of  ingratitude,  and  at  once  desirous  and 
ashamed  to  return,  and  the  tender  language  of  a  compas- 
sionate father,  at  once  chastising,  pitying,  and  pardoning 
are  sweetly  blended :  and  the  images  are  so  lively  and 
moving,  that,  if  they  were  regarded  only  as  poetical  de- 
scriptions founded  upon  fiction,  they  would  be  irresistibly 
striking.  But  when  we  consider  them  as  the  most  import- 
ant realities,  as  descriptive  of  that  ingenuous  repentance 
which  we  must  all  feel,  and  of  that  gracious  acceptance  we 
must  all  obtain  from  God  before  we  can  be  happy,  what 
almighty  energy  should  they  have  upon  us !  How  may 
our  hearts  dissolve  within  us  at  the  sound  of  such  pathetic 
complaints,  and  such  gracious  encouragements  \  Hard  in- 
deed is  that  heart  that  can  hear  these  penitential  strains, 
without  being  melted  into  the  like  tender  relentings ;  and 
inveterate  is  that  melancholy,  incurable  is  that  desponden- 
cy, that  can  listen  to  such  expressions  of  fatherly  compas- 
sion and  love,  without  being  cheered  and  animated. 

This  whole  chapter  had  a  primary  reference  to  the  Jews, 
and  such  of  the  Israelites  as  might  mingle  with  them  in 
their  return  from  the  Babylonian  captivity.  As  they  were 
enslaved  to  foreigners,  and  removed  from  their  native  land 
for  their  sin,  so  they  could  not  be  restored  but  upon  their 
repentance. 


96  THE   DIVINE   MERCY 

The  text  naturally  resolves  itself  into  three  parts,  as  it 
consists  of  three  verses.  In  the  first  verse  we  find  the 
careless,  resolute  impenitent  reduced  by  chastisement  to  a 
sense  of  his  danger,  and  the  necessity  of  turning  to  God, 
and  yet  sensible  of  his  utter  inability,  and  therefore  cry- 
ing for  the  attractive  influences  of  divine  grace.  You  hear 
Ephraim  bemoaning  his  wretched  condition,  and  pouring 
out  importunate  groans  for  relief,  thus :  Thou  hast  chastised 
one,  and  I  was  chastised,  like  a  hulhch  unaccustomed  to  the 
yoke,  that  struggles  and  wearies  himself  in  vain  to  get  free 
from  it,  and  must  be  broken  and  tamed  with  severe  usage. 
"  Thus  stubborn  and  unmanageable  have  I  been  ;  and  now 
when  I  am  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  a  return  to  thee,  I 
feel  my  obstinate  heart  reluctate,  like  a  wild  ox,  and  I  can- 
not come.  I  therefore  cry  to  thee  for  the  attractive  influence 
of  thy  grace."  Turn  thou  me,  and  I  shall  he  turned ;  draiv 
nne,  and  I  shall  run  after  thee.  "  To  whom  but  to  thee  shall 
I  return,  and  to  whom  but  to  thee  shall  I  apply  for  strength 
to  return  ?  For  thou  only  art  the  Lord  my  God,  who  can 
help  me,  and  whom  I  am  under  infinite  obligations  to 
serve."  Thus  the  awakened  sinner  prayed;  and  mercy 
listened  to  his  cries.  The  attractive  influences  of  divine 
grace  are  granted,  and  he  is  enabled  to  return :  which  in- 
troduces the  second  branch  of  the  text  in  the  19th  verse,  in 
which  the  new  convert  is  represented  as  reflecting  upon  the 
efficacy  of  converting  grace,  and  the  glorious  change 
wrought  in  him  by  it :  Surely  after  that  I  was  turned^  I  re- 
pented ;  and  after  that  I  was  instructed,  I  smote  upon  my 
thigh ;  I  was  ashamed,  yea,  even  confounded,  because  I  did 
hear  the  reproach  of  my  youth.  The  third  part  of  the  text 
represents  the  blessed  God  listening  to  the  cries  of  his 
mourning  child.  I  shall  endeavor  to  illustrate  each  of 
~  these  parts  of  the  text,  and  thus  shall  be  led  to  describe  the 
preparative  exercises,  the  nature  and  concomitants  of 
true  repentance,  and  the  tender  compassions  of  Heaven  to- 
wards mourning  penitents. 

I.  Let  us  view  the  returning  sinner  under  his  first  spirit- 
ual concern,  which  is  generally  preparatory  to  evangelical 
repentance.  And  where  shall  we  find  him  ?  And  what  is 
he  doing  ?  We  shall  not  find  him,  as  usual,  in  a  thought- 
less hurry  about  earthly  things,  confining  all  his  attention 
to  these  trifles,  and  unmindful  of  the  important  concerns  of 
eternity.     Wc  shall  not  find  him  merry,  inconsiderate,  and 


TO    MOURNING   TENITENTS.  97 

vain,  in  a  circle  of  jovial,  careless  companions ;  much  less 
shall  we  find  him  intrepid  and  secure  in  a  course  of  sin, 
gratifying  his  flesh,  and  indulging  his  lusts.  In  this  en- 
chanted road  the  crowds  of  hardy  impenitents  pass  secure 
and  cheerful  down  to  the  chambers  of  death,  but  the  awa- 
kened sinner  flies  from  it  with  horror ;  or,  if  his  depraved 
heart  would  tempt  him  to  walk  in  it,  he  cannot  take  many 
steps  before  he  is  shocked  with  the  horrid  apparition  of 
impending  danger.  He  finds  the  flattering  paths  of  sin 
haunted  with  the  terrible  spectres  of  guilt,  and  the  sword 
of  divine  vengeance  gleams  bright  and  dreadful  before  him, 
and  seems  lifted  to  give  the  fatal  blow.  You  will  therefore 
find  the  awakened  sinner  solitary  and  solemn  in  some  re- 
tired corner,  not  deceiving  himself  with  vain  hopes  of 
safety  in  his  present  state,  but  alarmed  with  apprehensions 
of  danger ;  not  planning  schemes  for  his  secular  advantage, 
nor  asking  with  sordid  anxiety,  '*  Who  will  show  me  any 
temporal  good?"  but  solicitous  about  his  perishing  soul, 
and  anxiously  inquiring.  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?  He 
is  no  more  senseless,  hard-hearted,  and  self- applauding,  as 
he  was  wont  to  be ;  but  like  a  mourning  turtle,  he  bewails 
himself  in  such  tragical  strains  as  these :  "  Unhappy  crea- 
ture that  I  am !  Into  what  a  deplorable  state  have  I  brought 
myself!  and  how  long  have  I  continued  in  it  with  the  in- 
sensibility of  a  rock  and  the  stupidity  of  a  brute  ?  Now  I 
may  mourn  over  my  past,  neglected,  and  unimproved  days, 
and  so  many  deceased  friends,  sent  indeed  by  Heaven  to  do 
no  good,  but  cruelly  killed  by  my  ungrateful  neglect  and 
continued  delays  as  to  a  return  to  God  and  holiness.  Here 
I  am  a  guilty,  obnoxious  creature,  uncertain  of  life,  and 
unfit  to  die;  alienated  from  God,  and  incapable  (alas!  I 
may  add  unwilling)  to  return,  a  slave  to  sin,  and  too  feeble 
to  break  the  fetters  of  inveterate  habits  ;  liable  to  the  arrest 
of  divine  justice,  and  unable  to  deliver  myself;  exposed  to 
the  vengeance  of  Heaven,  yet  can  make  no  atonement ;  des- 
titute of  an  interest  in  Christ,  and  uncertain  whether  I  shall 
ever  obtain  it.  Unhappy  creature  !  Pity  me,  ye  brute  crea- 
tion, that  know  not  how  to  sin,  and  therefore  cannot  know  the 
misery  of  my  case ;  and  have  pity  upon  me,  have  pity  upon 
me,  O  ye  my  friends !  and  if  these  guilty  lips  may  dare  ^  to 
pronounce  thy  injured  name,  O  thou  God  of  grace,  have  pity 
upon  me !  But  alas !  I  deserve  no  pity,  for  how  long  have 
I  denied  it  to  myself!    Ah !  infatuated  wretch !    Why  did 

9 


98  THE   DIVINE   MERCY 

not  I  sooner  begin  to  secure  myunhappy  soul,  that  Las  lain 
all  this  time  neglected  and  unpitied  upon  the  brink  of 
ruin  ?" 

Thou  hast  chastised  me.  This,  as  spoken  by  Ephraim, 
had  a  particular  reference  to  the  Babylonish  captivity ;  but 
we  may  naturally  take  occasion  from  it  to  speak  of  those 
calamities  in  general,  whether  outward  or  inward,  that  are 
made  the  means  of  alarming  the  secure  sinner. 

Sometimes  God  awakens  the  sinner  to  bethink  himself, 
by  stripping  him  of  his  earthly  supports  and  comforts,  his 
estate,  or  his  relatives,  which  drew  away  his  heart  from 
eternal  things,  and  thus  brings  him  to  see  the  necessity  of 
turning  to  God,  the  fountain  of  bliss,  upon  the  failure  of 
the  streams.  Thus  he  dealt  with  profligate  Manasseh.  He 
was  taken  in  thorns,  and  in  fetters,  and  carried  to  Babylon  ; 
and  when  he  was  in  affliction  he  besought  the  Lord,  and  huni- 
hled  hrmself  greatly  before  him  and  prayed  unto  him. 

But  the  principal  means  of  correction  which  God  uses 
for  the  end  of  return  to  him  is  that  of  conscience  ;  and,  in- 
deed, without  this,  all  the  rest  are  in  vain.  Outward 
afflictions  are  of  service  only  as  they  tend  to  awaken  the 
conscience  from  its  lethargy  to  a  faithful  discharge  of  its 
trust.  It  is  conscience  that  makes  the  sinner  sensible  of 
his  misery,  and  scourges  him  to  a  sense  of  his  duty.  This 
is  a  chastisement  the  most  severe  that  human  nature  can 
endure.  The  lashes  of  a  guilty  conscience  are  intolerable ; 
and  some,  under  them,  have  chosen  strangling  and  death 
rather  than  life.  Let  not  such  of  you  as  have  never  been 
tortured  with  its  remorse,  congratulate  yourselves  upon 
your  happiness,  for  you  are  not  innocent ;  and  therefore 
conscience  will  not  always  sleep ;  it  will  not  always  lie  tor- 
pid and  inactive,  like  a  snake  benumbed  with  cold,  in  your 
breast.  It  will  awaken  you  either  to  your  conversion  or 
condemnation.  Either  the  fire  of  God's  wrath,  flaming 
from  his  law,  will  enliven  it  in  this  world  to  sting  you  with 
medicinal  anguish;  or  the  unquenchable  fire  of  his  ven- 
geance in  the  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone  will  thaw  it  into 
life ;  and  then  it  will  horribly  rage  in  your  breast,  and 
diffuse  its  tormenting  poison  through  your  whole  frame : 
then  it  will  become  a  never-dying  worm,  and  prey  upon 
your  hearts  for  ever.  But  if  you  now  suffer  it  to  pain  you 
with  salutary  remorse,  and  awaken  you  to  a  tender  sensi- 
bility of  your  danger,  this  inte^stine  enemy  will,  in  the  end, 


TO   MOURNING   PENITENTS.  99 

become  your  bosom  friend,  will  support  you  under  every 
calamity,  and  be  your  faithful  companion  and  guardian 
ttirougli  the  most  dangerous  paths  of  life.  Therefore  now 
submit  to  its  most  wholesome  severities,  now  yield  to  its 
chastisements. 

You  see,  my  brethren,  the  obstinate  reluctance  of  an 
awakened  sinner  to  return  to  God.  I  was  chastised  as  a 
bullock  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke.  Like  a  wild  young  bul- 
lock, he  would  range  at  large,  and  is  impatient  of  the  yoke 
of  the  law  and  the  restraints  of  conscience.  He  loves  his 
sin,  and  cannot  bear  to  part  with  it.  He  has  no  relish  for 
the  exercises  of  devotion  and  ascetic  mortification,  and 
therefore  will  not  submit  to  them.  The  way  of  holiness  is 
disagreeable  to  his  depraved  heart,  and  he  will  not  turn 
his  feet  to  it.  He  loves  to  be  stupidly  easy  and  serene  in 
mind,  and  cannot  bear  to  be  checked  in  his  pursuit  of  bus- 
iness or  pleasure  by  anxieties  of  heart,  and  therefore  he  is 
impatient  of  the  honest  warnings  of  his  conscience,  and 
uses  a  variety  of  wretched  expedients  to  silence  its  clamor- 
ous remonstrances.  In  short,  he  will  do  any  thing,  he  v/ill 
turn  to  any  thing,  rather  than  to  God.  If  his  conscience 
will  be  but  satisfied,  he  will  forsake  many  of  his  sins  ;  he 
will,  like  Herod,  do  many  things,  and  walk  in  the  whole 
round  of  outward  duties.  All  this  he  will  do,  if  his  con- 
science will  be  bribed  by  it.  But  if  conscience  enlarges  its 
demands,  and,  after  he  has  reformed  his  life,  requires  him 
to  make  him  a  new  heart — ^requires  him  to  turn  not  only 
from  the  outward  practice  of  gross  vices,  but  from  the  love 
of ^11  sin ;  and  not  only  to  turn  to  the  observance  of  reli- 
gious duties,  but  to  turn  to  the  Lord  with  all  his  heart,  and 
surrender  himself  entirely  to  him,  and  make  it  the  main 
business  of  life  to  serve  him ;  if  conscience,  I  say,  carries 
its  demands  thus  far,  he  cannot  bear  it — he  struggles  to 
throw  off  the  yoke.  And  some  are  cursed  with  horrid 
success  in  the  attempt ;  they  are  permitted  to  rest  content 
in  a  partial  reformation,  or  external  religion,  as  sufficient, 
and  so  go  down  to  the  grave  with  a  lie  in  their  right  hand. 
But  the  happy  soul,  on  whom  divine  grace  is  determined 
to  finish  its  work  in  spite  of  all  opposition,  is  suffered  to 
weary  itself  out  in  a  vain  resistance  of  the  chastisements  of 
conscience,  till  it  is  obliged  to  yield  and  submit  to  the 
yoke.'  And  then,  with  Ephraim,  it  will  cry.  Turn  thou  me, 
and  I sliall  he  turned.     This  is  the  mournins:  sinner's  Ian- 


100  THE   DIVINE   MERCY 

guage  vrhen  convinced  that  lie  must  submit  and  turn  to 
(iod,  and  in  the  mean  time  finds  himself  utterly  unable  to 
turn.     Many  essays  he  makes  to  give  himself  to  the  Lord ; 
but  oh  !  his  heart  starts  back,  and  shrinks  away  as  though 
he  were  rushing  into  flames,  when  he  is  but  flying  to  the  gra- 
cious embraces  of  his  Father.     He  strives,  and  strives  to 
drag  it  along,  but  all  in  vain.    And  what  shall  he  do  in  this 
extremity,  but  cry,  Lord,  turn  thou  me,  and  I  shall  he  turn- 
ed; draiv  me,  and  I  shall  run  after  thee.     Lord,  though  I 
am  sensible  of  the  necessity  of  turning  to  thee,  though  I 
exert  my  feeble  strength  in  many  a  languid  effort  to  come, 
yet  I  cannot,  I  cannot  so  much  as  creep  towards  thee, 
though  I  should  die  on  the  spot.     Not  only  thy  word,  but 
my  own  experience  now  convinces  me  that  I  cannot  come 
unto  thee  unless  thou  draw  me.     Here  I  lie,  a  helpless 
creature,  unable  to  go  to  the  physician,  unable  to  accept  of 
pardon  and  life  on  the  easy  terms  of  the  gospel,  and  una- 
ble to  free  myself  from  the  bondage  of  sin ;  and  thus  I 
must  be  for  ever,  unless  that  God,  from  whom  I  have  re- 
volted draws  me  back  to  himself     Turn  me,  O  thou  that 
hast  the  hearts  of  all  men  in  thy  hands,  and  caDst  turn 
them  whithersoever  thou  pleasest,   turn  me;    and   then, 
weak  and  reluctant  as  I  am,  I  shall  be  turned ;  this  back- 
ward heart  will  yield  to  the  almighty  attraction  of  grace. 
"Here  am  I,  as  passive  clay  in  the  hand  of  the  potter,  in- 
capable to  fashioning  myself  into  a  vessel  fit  for  thy  house ; 
but  thou  canst  form  me  as  thou  pleasest.     This  hard  and 
stubborn  heart  will  be  pliable  to  thine  irresistible  power." 
Thus  you  see  the  awakened  sinner  is  driven  to  earnest 
prayer  in  his  exigence.    Never  did  a  drowning  man  call  for 
help,  or  a  condemned  malefactor  plead  for  pardon  with  more 
sincerity  and  ardor.     If  the  sinner  had  neglected  prayer  all 
his  life  before,  now  he  flies  to  it  as  the  only  expedient  left ; 
or  if  he  formerly  ran  it  over  in  a  careless,  unthinking  man- 
ner, as  an  insignificant  form,  now  he  exerts  all  the  impor- 
tunity of  his  soul ;  now  he  prays  as  for  his  life,  and  cannot 
rest  till  his  desires  are  answered. 

Having  viewed  Ephraim  under  the  preparatory  work  of 
legal  conviction,  and  the  dawn  of  evangelical  repentance, 
let  us  view  him, 

11.  As  reflecting  upon  the  surprising  efficacy  of  grace  he 
had  sought,  and  which  was  bestowed  upon  him  in  answer 
to  his  prayer. 


TO   MOUKNING   PENITENTS.  101 

We  left  Mm  just  now  crying,  Turn  thou  me,  and  I  shall 
be  turned ;  here  we  find  him  actually  turned.  Surely,  after 
I  was  turned  I  repented.  When  the  Lord  exerts  his  power 
to  subdue  tlie  stubbornness  of  the  sinner,  and  sweetly  to 
allure  him  to  himself,  then  the  sinner  repents ;  then  his 
heart  dissolves  in  ingenuous,  disinterested  relentings.  His 
sorrow  and  concern  before  conversion  are  forced  and  mer- 
cenary ;  they  are  occasioned  only  by  a  selfish  fear  of  pun- 
ishment, and  he  would  willingly  get  rid  of  them  ;  but  now 
his  grief  is  free  and  spontaneous ;  it  flows  from  his  heart  as 
freely  as  streams  from  a  fountain,  and  he  takes  pleasure  in 
tender  relentings  before  the  Lord  for  his  sin ;  he  delights 
to  be  humble,  and  to  feel  his  heart  dissolve  within  him. 
A  heart  of  flesh,  soft  and  susceptive  of  impressions,  is  his 
choice,  and  a  stony,  insensible  heart  his  greatest  burden ; 
the  more  penitent  the  more  happy,  and  the  more  senseless 
the  more  miserable  he  finds  himself. 

We  learn  from  this  passage,  that  the  true  penitent  is 
sensible  of  a  mighty  turn  in  his  temper  and  inclinations. 
Surely,  after  I  ivas  turned  1  repented.  His  whole  soul  is 
turned  from  what  he  formerly  delighted  in,  and  turned  to 
what  he  had  no  relish  for  before.  Particularly  his  thoughts, 
his  will  and  affections  are  turned  to  God ;  there  is  a  heav- 
enly bias  communicated  to  them  which  draws  them  to  ho- 
liness, like  the  law  of  gravitation  in  the  material  world. 
There  is  indeed  a  new  turn  given  to  his  outward  practice  ; 
the  world  may  see  that  he  is  a  new  man.  But  this  is  not 
all ;  the  first  spring  that  turns  all  the  wheels  of  the  soul 
and  actions  of  life  is  the  heart,  and  this  is  first  set  right. 
The  change  within  is  as  evident  as  that  without,  could  our 
eyes  penetrate  the  heart.  Ifi  short,  if  any  man  he  in  Christ, 
he  is  throughout  a  new  creature :  old  things  are  passed  aivay, 
.  and  behold  all  things  are  become  new. 

Apply  this  touchstone  to  your  hearts,  my  brethren,  and 
see  if  they  will  stand  the  test. 

III.  Let  us  notice  the  compassion  of  God  towards  mourn- 
ing penitents. 

While  they  are  bemoaning  their  case,  and  conscious  that 
they  do  not  deserve  one  look  of  love  fi'om  God,  he  is  rep- 
resented as  attentively  listening  to  catch  the  first  peniten- 
tial groan  that  breaks  from  their  hearts.  Ephraim,  in  the 
depth  of  his  despondency,  probably  did  hardly  hope  that 
God  took  any  notice  of  his  secret  sorrows,  which  he  sup- 

9* 


102  THE    DIVINE   MERCY 

pressed  as  inucli  as  })()ssible  from  tlie  public  view:  but  God 
heard  him — God  watching  to  hear  the  first  mournful  cry ; 
and  he  repeats  all  his  complaints,  to  let  him  know  (after 
the  manner  of  men)  what  particular  notice  he  had  taken  of 
them.  ^' I  have  surely  heard,  or  hearing  I  have  heard;" 
that  is,  "I  have  attentively  heard  Ephraim  bemoaning 
himself  thus." 

What  strong  consolation  may  this  give  to  desponding 
mourners,  who  think  themselves  neglected  by  that  God  to 
whom  they  are  pouring  out  their  weeping  supplications ! 
He  hears  your  secret  groans,  he  courts  your  sighs,  and  puts 
your  tears  into  his  bottle.  His  eyes  penetrate  all  the  se- 
crets'of  your  heart,  and  he  observes  all  their  feeble  strug- 
gles to  turn  to  himself;  and  he  beholds  you,  not  as  an 
unconcerned  spectator,  but  with  all  the  tender  emotions  of 
fatherly  compassion.  "  For  since  I  spake  against  him,  I 
do  earnestly  remember  him  still."  Many  and  dreadful 
were  the  threatenings  denounced  against  the  sinner  while 
impenitent ;  and,  had  he  continued  impenitent,  they  would 
certainly  have  been  executed  upon  him.  But  the  primary 
and  immediate  design  of  the  threatenings  are  to  make  men 
happy,  and  not  to  make  them  miserable ;  they  are  design- 
ed to  deter  them  from  disobedience,  which  is  naturally 
productive  of  misery,  or  to  reclaim  them  from  it,  which  is 
but  to  restrain  them  in  their  career  of  ruin.  And  conse- 
quently these  threatenings  proceed  from  love  as  well  as 
the  promises  of  our  God — from  love  to  the  person,  though 
from  hatred  to  sin.  Thus  when  the  primary  end  of  the 
divine  threatenings,  namely,  the  deterring  and  reclaiming 
men  from  disobedience  is  not  obtained,  then  it  becomes 
necessary  that  they  should  be«executed  upon  the  impeni- 
tent in  their  dreadful  extent ;  but  when  the  sinner  is 
brought  to  repentance,  and  to  submit  to  the  divine  govern- 
ment, then  all  these  threatenings  are  repealed,  and  they 
shall  not  hurt  one  hair  of  his  head.  And  the  sinner  him- 
self shall  acknowledge  that  these  threatenings  proved 
necessary  mercies  to  him,  and  that  the  denunciation  of 
everlasting  punishment  was  one  means  of  bringing  him  to 
everlasting  happiness,  and  that  divine  vengeance  in  this 
sense  conspired  with  divine  grace  to  save  him. 

Consider  this,  ye  desponding  penitents  and  allay  your 
terrors.  That  God,  who  lias  written  such  bitter  things 
against  you  in  his  word,  earnestly  and  affectionately  remcm- 


TO   MOURNING   PENITENTS.  103 

bers  you  still,  and  it  was  with  a  kind  intent  to  yon,  that  he 
thundered  out  these  terrors  of  which  you  tremble.  These 
acids,  this  bitter  physic,  were  necessary  for  your  recovery. 
These  coals  of  lire  were  necessary  to  awaken  you  out  of 
your  lethargy.  Therefore  read  the  love  of  your  Father, 
even  in  these  solemn  warnings.  He  affectionately  remem- 
bers you  still ;  he  cannot  put  you  out  of  his  thoughts. 

And  can  you,  ye  mourners  in  Zion,  can  you  fear  a  re- 
jection from  such  a  tender  Father?  Can  you  dread  to 
venture  upon  such  abundant  mercies?  Is  there  a  mourn- 
ing Ephraim  in  this  assembly  ?  I  may  call  you  as  Grod  did 
Adam,  Ephraim,  vJiere  art  tJiouf  Let  the  word  of  God 
find  you  out,  and  force  a  little  encouragement  upon  you : 
your  heavenly  Father,  whose  angry  hand  you  fear,  is  list- 
ening to  your  groans,  and  will  measure  you  out  a  mercy 
for  every  groan,  a  blessing  for  every  sigh,  a  drop,  a  draught 
of  consolation  for  everj^  tear.  His  bowels  are  moving  over 
you,  and  he  addresses  you  in  such  language  as  this,  "  Is 
this- my  dear  son  ?  is  this  my  pleasant  child?"  And  as  to 
you,  ye  hardy  impenitents,  ye  abandoned  profligates,  ye 
careless  formalists,  ye  almost  Christians,  can  you  hear  these 
things,  and  not  begin  to  relent?  Do  you  not  find  your 
frozen  hearts  begin  to  thaw  within  you  ?  Can  you  resist 
such  alluring  grace  ?  Can  you  bear  the  thoughts  of  con- 
tinuing enemies  to  so  good,  so  forgiving  a  Father  ?  Does 
not  Ephraim's  petition  now  rise  in  your  hearts.  Turn  thou 
'ine,  and  I  shall  he  turned  f  then  I  congratulate  you  upon  this 
happy  day ;  you  are  this  day  become  Grod's  sons,  the  chil- 
dren of  his  delights.  Is  there  a  wretch  so  senseless,  so 
wicked,  so  abandoned,  as  to  refuse  to  return?  Where  art 
thou,  hardy  rebel  ?  Stand  forth  and  meet  the  terrors  of 
thy  doom.  To  thee  I  must  change  my  voice,  and  instead 
of  representing  the  tender  compassions  of  a  Father,  must 
denounce  the  terrors  of  an  angry  Judge.  Thy  doom  is 
declared,  and  fixed  by  the  same  lips  that  speak  to  penitents 
in  such  encouraging  strains ;  by  those  gracious  lips  that 
never  uttered  a  harsh  censure.  Thou  art  treasuring  up 
wrath  in  horrid  affluence  against  the  day  of  wrath. — Eom. 
ii.  5.  God  is  jealous,  and  revengeth  ;  the  Lord  revengeth,  and 
is  furious ;  the  Lord  ivill  take  vengeance  on  his  adversaries  ; 
and  lie  reserveth  wrath  for  his  enemies.  The  mountains  quake 
at  him  ;  the  hills  melt ;  the  earth  is  burnt  at  his  presence ;  yea, 
the  world^  and  they  that  dwell  therein.      Who  can  stand  before 


104  THINGS   UNSEEN   TO   BE 

his  indignation  ?  Who  can  endure  the  fierceness  of  his  anger  ? 
— Nehem.  i.  2-5.  These  flaming  thunderbolts,  sinner,  are 
aimed  at  thy  heart,  and  if  thou  canst  harden  thyself  against 
these  terrors,  let  me  read  thy  doom  before  we  part.  You 
have  it  pronounced  by  God  himself  in  Deuteronomy,  the 
twenty-ninth  chapter,  at  the  nineteenth  and  following  verses: 
If  it  come  to  pass  that  when  he  heareth  the  words  of  this  curse, 
that  he  bless  himself  in  his  heart,  saying,  I  shall  have  peace, 
though  I  walk  in  the  imagination  of  my  heart — the  Lord  shall 
not  spare  him :  hut  then  the  anger  of  the  Lord  and  his  jealousy 
shall  sraohe  against  that  man,  and  all  the  curses  that  are  loritten 
in  this  hooh  shall  lie  upon  him,  and  the  Lord  shall  hlot  out  his 
name  from  under  heaven  ;  and  the  Lord  shall  separate  him 
unto  evil  out  of  cdl  the  tribes  of  Israel,  according  to  all  the 
curses  of  the  covenant  that  are  written  in  this  book  of  the  law. 
And  now,  sinner,  if  thou  canst  return  home  careless  and 
senseless  with  this  heavy  curse  upon  thee,  expect  not  a  word 
of  comfort,  expect  no  blessing  till  thou  art  made  truly  pen- 
itent ;  for  " how  shall  I  bless  whom  God  has  not  blessed?" 
The  ministerial  blessing  falls  upon  one  on  thy  right  hand, 
and  one  on  thy  left,  but  it  lights  not  upon  thee.  The  curse 
is  thy  lot,  and  this  must  thou  have,  at  the  hand  of  God,  if 
thou  continuest  hardened  and  insolent  in  sin.  Consider  this, 
all  ye  that  forget  God,  lest  he  tear  you  in  pieces,  and  there  he  none 
to  deliver. 


X. 

THINGS  UNSEEN  TO  BE  PREFERRED  TO  THINGS  SEEN. 

"  While  we  look  not  at  the  things  wliich  are  seen,  but  at  the  things  which 
are  not  seen :  for  the  things  which-  are  seen  are  temporal ;  but  the  things 
which  are  not  seen  are  eternal," — 2  Cor.  iv,  18. 

Among  all  the  causes  of  the  stupid  unconcernedness  of 
sinners  about  religion,  and  the  feeble  endeavors  of  saints 
to  improve  it,  there  is  none  more  common  or  more  effectual 
than  their  not  forming  a  due  estimate  of  the  things  of  time, 
in  comparison  of  those  of  eternity.  Our  present  affairs 
engross  all  our  thoughts  and  exhaust  all  our  activity, 
though  they  are  but  transitory  tridcs;  while  the  awful 
realities  of  the  future  world  arc  hid  from  our  eyes  by  the 


PKEFERRED  TO  THINGS  SEEN.  105 

veil  of  flesh  and  the  clouds  bf  ignorance.  Did  these  break 
in  upon  our  minds  in  all  their  almighty  evidence  and 
tremendous  importance,  thej  would  annihilate  the  most 
majestic  vanities  of  the  present  state,  obscure  the  glare  of 
earthly  glory,  render  all  its  pleasures  insipid,  and  give  us  a 
noble  insensibility  under  all  its  sorrows.  A  realizing  view 
of  these  would  shock  the  libertine  in  his  thoughtless  career, 
tear  off  the  hypocrite's  mask,  and  inflame  the  devotion  of 
languishing  saints.  The  concern  of  mankind  Avould  then 
be  hpw  they  might  make  a  safe  exit  out  of  the  world,  and 
not  how  they  might  live  happy  in  it.  Present  pleasure  and 
pain  would  be  swallowed  up  in  the  prospect  of  everlast- 
ing happiness  or  misery  hereafter.  Eternity,  awful  eternity, 
would  then  be  our  serious  contemplation.  The  pleasures 
of  sin  would  strike  us  with  horror,  if  they  issue  in  eter- 
nal pain ;  and  our  afflictions,  however  tedious  and  severe, 
would  appear  light  and  momentary,  if  they  work  out  for 
us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory. 

These  were  the  views  the  apostle  had  of  things,  and 
these  their  effects  upon  him.  He  informs  us  in  this  chapter 
of  his  unwearied  zeal  to  propagate  the  gospel  amidst  all  the 
hardships  and  dangers  that  attended  the  painful  discharge 
of  his  ministry.  Though  he  bore  about  in  his  body  the 
dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  though  he  was  always  delivered 
unto  death  for  Jesus'  sake,  yet  he  fainted  not ;  and  this  was 
the  prospect  that  animated  him,  tliat  his  light  affliction, 
ivhich  is  hut  for  a  moment,  woidd  luorkout  for  him  afar  more 
exceeding  and  eternal  lueight  of  glory.  When  we  view  his 
sufferings  absolutely  without  any  reference  to  eternity,  they 
were  very  heavy  and  of  many  years'  continuance ;  and 
when  he  represents  them  in  this  view,  how  moving  is  the 
relation  !  But  when  he  views  them  in  the  light  of  eterni- 
ty, and  compared  with  their  glorious  issues,  they  sink  into 
nothing ;  then  scourging,  stoning,  imprisonnaent,  and  all 
the  various  deaths  to  which  he  was  daily  exposed,  are  but 
light,  trifling  afflictions,  hardly  worth  naming;  then  a 
series  of  uninterrupted  sufferings  for  many  years  are  but 
afflictions  that  endure  for  a  moment.  And  when  he  views 
a  glorious  futurity,  human  language  cannot  express  the 
ideas  he  has  of  the  happiness  reserved  for  him ;  it  is  afar 
more  exceeding  and  eterncd  weight  of  glory ;  a  noble  senti- 
ment !  and  expressed  in  the  sublimest  manner  the  language 
of  mortals  can  admit  of 


106  THINGS   UNSEEN   TO   BE 

It  is  glory  in  opposition  to  affliction ;  h  weight  of  glory 
in  opposition  to  light  affliction  ;  a  massy  oppressive  bless- 
edness, which  it  requires  all  the  powers  of  the  soul,  in  their 
full  extension,  to  support :  to  finish  all,  it  is  a  far  more  ex- 
ceeding glory.  What  greater  idea  can  be  grasped  by  the 
human  mind,  or  expressed  in  the  feeble  language  of  mor- 
tality !  Kothing  but  feeling  that  weight  of  glory  could 
enlarge  his  conception ;  and  nothing  but  the  dialect  of 
heaven  could  better  express  it.  No  wonder  that,  with  this 
view  of  things,  he  could  reckon  the  sufferings  of  the  present 
life  are  not  ivorthy  to  he  compared  loith  the  glory  that  shall  he 
revealed. 

My  present  design,  and  the  contents  of  the  text,  pre- 
scribes to  me  the  following  method : 

I.  I  shall  give  you  a  comparative  view  of  visible  and 
invisible  things,  that  you  may  see  the  trifling  nature  of  the 
one,  and  the  importance  of  the  other.  This  I  choose  to 
do  under  one  head,  because  by  placing  these  two  classes  of 
things  in  an  immediate  opposition  we  may  the  more  easily 
compare  them,  and  see  their  infinite  disparity.     And, 

II.  I  shall  show  you  the  great  and  happy  influence  a 
Buitable  impression  of  the  superior  importance  of  invisible 
to  visible  things  would  have  upon  us. 

I.  I  shall  give  you  a  comparative  view  of  visible  and  in- 
visible things ;  and  we  may  compare  visible  and  invisible 
things,  as  to  their  intrinsic  value,  and  as  to  their  duration. 

1.  As  to  their  intrinsic  value,  and  in  this  respect  the 
disparity  is  inconceivable. 

This  I  shall  illustrate  in  the  two  comprehensive  instances 
of  pleasure  and  pain.  To  shun  the  one  and  obtain  the 
other  is  the  natural  effort  of  the  human  mind.  This  is  its 
aim  in  all  its  endeavors  and  pursuits.  The  innate  desire  of 
happiness  and  aversion  to  misery  are  the  two  great  springs 
of  all  human  activity,  and  were  these  springs  relaxed  or 
broken,  all  business  would  stagnate,  and  universal  torpor 
would  seize  the  world.  And  these  principles  are  co-exist- 
ent with  the  soul  itself,  and  will  continue  in  full  vigor  in  a 
future  state.  Nay,  as  the  soul  will  then  be  matured,  and 
all  its  powers  arrived  at  their  complete  perfection,  this 
eagerness  after  happiness  and  aversion  to  misery  will  be  also 
more  quick  and  vigorous.  The  soul  in  its  present  state  of 
infancy,  like  a  young  child,  or  a  man  enfeebled  and  stupe- 
fied by  sickness,  is  incapable  of  very  deep  sensations  of 


PKEFERRED  TO  THINGS  SEEN.  107 

pain  and  pleasure ;  and  hence  an  excess  of  joy,  as  well  as 
sorrow,  has  sometimes  dissolved  its  feeble  union  with  the 
body.  On  this  account  we  are  incapable  of  such  degrees 
of  happiness  or  misery  from  the  things  of  this  world  as 
beings  of  more  lively  sensations  might  receive  from  them, 
and  much  more  are  we  incapable  of  the  happiness  or  misery 
of  the  future  world  until  we  have  put  on  immortality. 
We  cannot  see  God  and  live.  But  in  the  future  world  all 
the  powers  of  the  soul  will  be  mature  and  strong,  and  the 
body  will  be  clothed  with  immortality  ;  the  union  between 
them  after  the  resurrection  will  be  inseparable,  and  able  to 
support  the  most  oppressive  weight  of  glory,  or  the  most 
intolerable  load  of  torment.  Hence  it  follows  that  pleasure 
and  pain  include  all  that  we  can  desire  or  fear  in  the  present 
or  ftiture  world:  and  therefore  a  comparative  view  of 
present  and  future  pleasure  and  pain  is  sufficient  to  enable 
us  to  form  a  due  estimate  of  visible  and  invisible  things. 
By  present  pleasure,  I  mean  all  the  happiness  we  can  re- 
ceive from  present  things,  as  from  riches,  honors,  sensual 
gratifications,  learning,  and  intellectual  improvements,  and 
all  the  amusements  and  exercises  of  this  life.  And  by 
future  pleasure,  or  the  pleasure'which  results  from  invisible 
things,  I  mean  all  the  fruitions  and  enjoyments  in  which 
heavenly  happiness  consists.  By  present  pain,  I  intend  all 
the  uneasiness  which  we  can  receive  from  the  things  of  the 
present  life,  as  poverty,  losses,  disappointments,  bereave- 
ments, sickness,  and  bodily  pains.  And  by  future  pain,  I 
mean  all  the  punishments  of  hell — as  banishment  from 
God,  and  a  privation  of  all  created  blessings,  the  agonizing 
reflections  of  a  guilty  conscience,  the  horrid  company  and 
execrations  of  infernal  ghosts,  and  the  torture  of  infernal 
flames. 

Now  let  us  put  these  in  a  balance,  and  the  one  will 
sink  into  nothing,  and  the  other  rise  into  infinite  import- 
ance. 

1.  Visible  things  are  not  equal  to  the  capacities  of  the 
human  soul.  This  little  spark  of  being,  the  soul,  which 
lies  obscured  in  this  prison  of  flesh,  gives  frequent  dis- 
coveries of  surprising  powers ;  its  desires  in  particular  have 
a  kind  of  infinity.  But  all  temporary  objects  are  mean 
and  contracted ;  they  cannot  afford  it  a  happiness  equal  to 
its  capacity,  nor  render  it  as  miserable  as  its  capacity  of 
suffering  will  bear.     Hence,  in  the  greatest  affluence  of 


108  THINGS    UNSEEN   TO   BE 

temporal  enjoyments,  in  the  midst  of  honors,  pleasures, 
riches,  friends,  &c.,  it  still  feels  a  painful  void  within,  and 
finds  an  unknown  something  wanting  to  complete  its  hap- 
piness. Kings  have  been  unhappy  upon  their  thrones,  and 
all  their  grandeur  has  been  but  majestic  misery.  So  Solo- 
mon found  it,  who  had  opportunity  and  curiosity  to  make 
the  experiment ;  and  this  is  his  verdict  upon  all  earthly 
enjoyments,  after  the  most  impartial  trial,  "  Vanity  of 
vanities,"  saith  the  preacher,  "  vanity  of  vanities ;  all  is 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit."  On  the  other  hand,  the 
soul  may  possess  some  degree  of  happiness,  under  all  the 
miseries  it  is  capable  of  suffering  from  external  and  tem- 
poral things.  But,  O,  when  we  take  a  survey  of  invisible 
things,  we  find  them  all  great  and  majestic,  not  only  equal 
but  infinitely  superior  to  the  most  enlarged  powers  of  the 
human  and  even  of  the  angelic  nature.  The  objects  of 
our  contemplation  will  then  be  either  the  unveiled  glories 
of  the  divine  nature,  and  the  naked  wonders  of  creation, 
providence,  and  redemption,  or '  the  terrors  of  divine 
justice,  the  dreadful  nature  and  aggravations  of  our  sin, 
the  horrors  of  everlasting  punishment,  &c.  And  since 
this  is  the  case,  how  little  should  we  regard  the  things  that 
are  seen,  in  comparison  of  them  that  are  not  seen  ?  But 
though  visible  things  were  adequate  to  our  present  capa- 
cities, yet  they  are  not  to  be  compared  with  the  things  that 
arc  not  seen,  because, 

2.  The  soul  is  at  present  in  a  state  of  infancy,  and  inca- 
pable of  such  degrees  of  pleasure  or  pain  as  it  can  bear  in 
the  future  world.  The  enjoyments  of  this  life  are  like  the 
playthings  of  children,  but  the  invisible  realities  before  us 
are  manly  and  great,  and  such  as  an  adult  soul  ought  to 
concern  itself  with.  How  foolish  is  it  then  to  be  chiefly 
governed  by  these  puerilities,  while  we  neglect  the  manly 
concerns  of  eternity,  that  can  make  our  souls  perfectly 
happy  or  miserable,  when  their ,  powers  are  come  to  per- 
fection ! 

3.  All  the  happiness  and  misery  of  the  present  state, 
resulting  from  things  that  are  seen,  are  intermingled  with 
contrary  ingredients.  We  are  never  so  happy  in  this 
world,  as  to  have  no  uneasiness ;  in  the  greatest  affluence 
we  languish  for  some  absent  good,  or  grieve  under  some 
incumbent  evil.  ,  On  the  other  hand,  we  are  never  so 
miserable  as  to  have  no  ingredient  of  happiness.     When 


PREFERRED  TO  THINGS  SEEN.  109 

we  labor  under  a  thousand  calamities,  we  may  still  see 
ourselves  surrounded  with,  perhaps,  an  equal  number  of 
blessings.  And  where  is  there  a  wretch  so  miserable  as  to 
endure  simple  unmingled  misery  without  one  comfortable 
ingredient  ?  But  in  the  invisible  world  there  is  an  eternal 
separation  made  between  good  and  evil,  pleasure  and  pain  : 
and  they  shall  never  mingle  more.  In  heaven,  the  rivera 
of  pleasure  flow  untroubled  with  a  drop  of  sorrow ;  in 
hell,  there  is  not  a  drop  of  water  to  mitigate  the  fury  of 
the  flame.  Who,  then,  would  not  prefer  the  things  that 
are  not  seen  to  those  that  are  seen  ?  Especially  if  we  con- 
sider, 

4.  The  infinite  disparity  between  them  as  to  duration. 
This  is  the  difference  particularly  intended  in  the  text ;  the 
things  that  are  seen  are  temporal ;  hut  the  things  that  are  not 
seen  are  eternal.  Before  we  illustrate  these  instances  of 
disparity,  let  us  take  a  view  of  time  and  eternity,  in  them- 
selves, and  as  compared  to  one  another. 

Time  is  the  duration  of  creatures  in  the  present  state. 
It  commenced  at  the  creation,  and  near  six  thousand  years 
of  it  are  since  elapsed,  and  how  much  of  it  yet  remains 
we  know  not.  But  this  we  know,  that  the  duration  of  the 
world  itself  is  as  nothing  in  comparison  of  eternity.  ISTow 
the  span  of  time  we  enjoy  in  life  is  all  our  time ;  we  have 
no  more  property  in  the  rest  of  it  than  in  the  years  before 
the  flood.  All  beside  is  eternity.  "Eternity!"  We  are 
alarmed  at  the  sound !  Lost  in  the  prospect !  Eternity, 
with  respect  to  God,  is  a  duration  without  beginning  as 
well  as  without  end !  Eternity,  as  it  is  the  attribute  of 
human  nature,  is  a  duration  that  had  a  beginning  but  shall 
never  have  an  end.  This  is  inalienably  entailed  upon  us 
poor  dying  worms ;  and  let  us  survey  our  inheritance. 
Eternity !  it  is  a  duration  that  excludes  all  number  and 
computation ;  days,  and  months,  and  years,  yea,  and  ages 
are  lost  in  it,  like  drops  in  the  ocean.  Millions  of  millions . 
of  years,  as  many  years  as  there  are  sands  on  the  sea-shore, 
or  particles  of  dust  in  the  globe  of  the  earth,  and  these 
multiplied  to  the  highest  reach  of  numbers,  all  these  are 
nothing  to  eternity.  They  do  not  bear  the  least  imagina- 
ble proportion  to  it;  for  these  will  come  to  an  end,  as  cer- 
tain as  day ;  but  eternity  will  never,  never  come  to  an 
end.  It  is  a  line  without  end ;  it  is  an  ocean  without  a 
shore.     Alas  1  what  shall  I  say  of  it !    It  is  an  infinite  un- 

10 


110  THINGS   UNSEEN  TO  BE 

known  something,  that  neither  human  thought  can  grasp 
nor  human  language  describe. 

Now  place  time  in  comparison  with  eternity,  and  what  is 
it  ?  It  shrinks  into  nothing,  and  less  than  nothing.  What, 
then,  is  that  little  span  of  time  in  which  we  have  any  prop- 
erty ?  Alas !  it  is  too  diminutive  a  point  to  be  conceived. 
Indeed,  properly  speaking,  we  can  call  no  part  of  time  our 
own  but  the  "present  moment,  this  fleeting  now:  future 
time  is  uncertain,  and  we  may  never  enjoy  it ;  the  breath 
that  we  now  respire  may  be  our  last ;  and  as  to  our  past 
time,  it  is  gone,,  and  will  never  be  ours  again.  Our  past 
days  are  dead  and  buried,  though  perhaps  guilt,  their 
ghost,  may  haunt  us  still.  And  what  is  a  moment  to  eter- 
nity ?     The  disparity  is  too  great  to  admit  of  comparison. 

Let  me  now  resume  the  former  particulars,  implied  in 
the  transitoriness  of  visible  and  eternity  of  invisible  things. 

Visible  things  are  perishable  and  may  soon  leave  us. 
When  we  think  they  are  ours,  they  often  fly  from  our 
embrace.  Riches  may  vanish  into  smoke  and  ashes  by  an 
accidental  fire.  We  may  be  thrown  down  from  the  pinna- 
cle of  honor,  and  sink  the  lower  into  disgrace.  Sensual 
pleasures  often  end  in  satiety  and  disgust,  or  in  sickness 
and  death.  Our  friends  are  torn  from  our  bleeding  hearts 
by  the  inexorable  hand  of  death.  In  a  word,  what  do  we 
enjoy  but  we  may  lose  ?  On  the  other  hand,  our  miseries 
here  are  temporary ;  the  heart  receives  many  a  wound,  but 
it  heals  again.  Poverty  may  end  in  riches ;  a  clouded 
character  may  clear  up,  and  from  disgrace  we  may  rise  to 
honor  ;  we  may  recover  from  sickness ;  and  if  we  lose  one 
comfort  we  may  obtain  another.  But  in  eternity  every 
thing  is  everlasting  and  unchangeable.  Happiness  and 
misery  are  both  of  them  without  end ;  and  the  subjects  of 
both  well  know  that  this  is  the  case.  O  how  transporting 
for  the  saints  on  high  to  look  forward  through  the  succes- 
sion of  eternal  ages,  with  an  assurance  that  they  shall  be 
happy  through  them  all,  and  that  they  shall  feel  no  change 
but  from  glory  to  glory !  On  the  other  liand,  this  is  the 
bitterest  ingredient  in  the  cup  of  divine  displeasure  in  the 
future  state,  that  the  misery  is  eternal.  O  with  what  hor- 
ror does  that  despairing  cry.  For  ever,  for  ever,  for  ever ! 
echo  through  the  vaults  of  hell !  Eternity  is  such  an  im- 
portant attribute,  that  it  gives  infinite  weight  to  things  that 
would  be  insignificant,  were  they  temporary.     A  small  de- 


PREFEKRED  TO  THINGS  SEEN.  .         Ill 

gree  of  Lappiness,  if  it  be  eternal,  exceeds  the  greatest  de- 
gree that  is  transitory ;  and  a  small  degree  of  misery  that 
is  everlasting  is  of  greater  importance  than  the  greatest  de- 
gree that  soon  comes  to  an  end.  Again,  should  we  consider 
all  the  ingredients  and  causes  of  future  happiness  and  misery, 
we  should  find  them  all  everlasting.  The  blessed  God  is 
an  inexhaustible  perennial  fountain  of  bliss ;  his  image  can 
never  be  erased  from  the  hearts  of  glorified  spirits ;  the  great 
contemplation  will  always  lie  obvious  to  them ;  and  they 
will  always  exist  as  the  partakers  and  promoters  of  mutual 
bliss.  On  the  other  hand,  in  hell  the  worm  of  conscience 
dieth  not,  and  the  fire  is  not  quenched  ;  divine  justice  is  im- 
mortal ;  malignant  spirits  will  always  exist  as  mutual  tor- 
mentors, and  their  wicked  habits  will  never  be  extirpated. 
And  now,  need  I  offer  any  thing  further  to  convince  you 
of  the  superior  importance  of  invisible  and  eternal  to  visi- 
ble and  temporary  things  ?  Can  a  rational  creature  be  at 
a  loss  to  choose  in  so  plain  a  case  ?  Can  yon  need  any 
argument  to  convince  you  that  an  eternity  of  the  most 
j^erfect  happiness  is  rather  to  .be  chosen  than  a  few  years 
of  sordid  unsatisfying  delight  ?  Or  that  the  former  should 
not  be  forfeited  for  the  sake  of  the  latter  ?  Have  you  any 
remaining  scruples,  whether  the  little  anxieties  and  morti- 
fications of  a  pious  life  are  more  intolerable  than  everlast- 
ing punishment?  01  it  is  a  plain  case :  what,  then,  means 
an  infatuated  world,  who  lay  out  all  their  concern  on  tem- 
poral things,  and  neglect  the  important  affairs  of  eternity  ? 
Let  us  illustrate  this  matter  by  supposition.  Suppose  a 
bird  were  to  pick  up  and  carry  away  a  grain  of  sand  or 
dust  from  the  globe  of  this  earth  once  in  a  thousand  years, 
till  it  should  be  at  length  wholly  carried  away ;  the  dura- 
tion which  this  would  take  up  appears  an  eternity  to  us. 
Now  suppose  it  were  put  to  our  choice,  either  to  be  happy 
during  this  time,  and  miserable  ever  after,  or  to  be  miser- 
able during  this  time,  and  happy  ever  after,  which  would 
you  choose  ?  Why,  though  this  duration  seems  endless, 
yet  he  would  be  a  fool  that  would  not  make  the  latter 
choice ;  for,  0 !  behind  this  vast  duration,  there  lies  an 
eternity  which  exceeds  it  infinitely  more  than  this  duration 
exceeds  a  moment.  But  we  have  no  such  seemingly  puz- 
zling choice  as  this ;  the  matter  with  us  stands  thus — Will 
you  choose  the  little  sordid  pleasures  of  sin  that  may  per- 
haps not  last  an  hour,  at  most,  not  many  years,  rather  than 


112  THINGS   UNSEEN   TO   BE 

everlasting  pleasure,  of  the  sublimest  kind?  Will  you 
rather  endure  intolerable  torment  for  ever,  than  painfully 
endeavor  to  be  holy  ?  What  does  your  conduct,  my  breth- 
ren, answer  to  these  questions?  If  your  tongues  reply, 
they  will  perhaps  for  your  credit  give  a  right  answer ;  but 
what  say  your  prevailing  dispositions  and  common  prac- 
tice ?  Are  you  not  more  thoughtful  for  time  than  eternity  ? 
More  concerned  about  visible  vanities  than  invisible  reali- 
ties ?     If  so,  you  make  a  fool's  choice  indeed. 

But  let  it  be  further  considered,  that  the  transitoriness 
of  invisible  things  may  imply  that  we  must  ere  long  be 
removed  from  them.  Though  they  were  immortal  it  would 
be  nothing  to  us,  since  we  are  not  so  in  our  present  state. 
Within  a  few  years,  at  most,  we  shall  be  beyond  the  reach 
of  all  happiness  and  misery  from  temporal  things. 

But  when  we  pass  out  of  this  transitory  state,  we  enter 
upon  an  everlasting  state.  Our  souls  will  always  exist; 
exist  in  a  state  of  unchangeable,  boundless  happiness  or 
misery.  It  is  but  a  little  while  since  we  came  into  being 
out  of  a  state  of  eternal  non-existence  ;  but  we  shall  never 
relapse  into  that  state  again.  These  little  sparks  of  being 
shall  never  be  extinguished !  they  will  survive  the  ruins 
of  the  world,  and  kindle  into  immortality.  When  millions 
of  millions  of  ages  are  past,  we  shall  still  be  in  existence ; 
and  O !  in  what  unknown  region !  In  that  of  endless  bliss, 
or  of  interminable  misery  !  Be  this  the  most  anxious  in- 
quiry of  our  lives. 

Seeing,  then,  we  must  soon  leave  this  world,  and  all  its 
joys  and  sorrows,  and  seeing  we  must  enter  on  an  un- 
changeable everlasting  state  of  happiness  or  misery,  be  it 
our  chief  concern  to  end  our  present  pilgrimage  well.  It 
matters  but  little  whether  we  be  easy  or  not  during  this 
night  of  existence,  if  so  be  we  awake  in  eternal  day.  It  is 
but  a  trifle,  hardly  worth  a  thought,  whether  we  be  happy 
or  miserable  here,  if  we  be  happy  for  ever  hereafter. 
What,  then,  mean  the  bustle  and  noise  of  mankind  about 
the  things  of  time  ?  O,  sirs,  eternity,  awful,  all-important 
eternity,  is  the  only  thing  that  deserves  a  thought.  I  come 
now,  to  show  the  great  and  happy  influence  a  suitable  im- 
pression of  the  superior  importance  of  invisible  to  visible 
things  would  have  upon  us.  This  I  might  exemplify  in  a 
variety  of  instances  with  respect  to  saints  and  sinners. 
When  we  are  tempted  to  any  unlawful  pleasures,  how 


PREFERRED  TO  THINGS  SEEN.  113 

would  we  shrink  away  with  horror  from  the  pursuit,  had 
we  a  due  sense  of  the  misery  incurred,  and  the  happiness 
forfeited  by  it. 

Wlien  we  find  our  hearts  excessively  eager  after  things 
below,  had  we  a  suitable  view  of  eternal  things,  all  these 
things  would  shrink  into  trifles  hardly  worth  a  thought, 
much  less  our  principal  concern. 

When  the  sinner,  for  the  sake  of  alittle  present  ease,  and 
to  avoid  a  little  present  uneasiness,  stifles  his  conscience, 
refuses  to  examine  his  condition,  casts  the  thoughts  of 
eternity  out  of  his  mind,  and  thinks  it  too  hard  to  attend 
painfully  on  all  the  means  of  grace,  has  he  then  a  due 
estimate  of  eternal  things  ?  Alas !  no ;  he  only  looks  at 
the  things  that  are  seen.  Were  the  mouth  of  hell  open 
before  him,  that  he  might  behold  its  torments,  and  had  he 
a  sight  of  the  joys  of  paradise,  they  would  harden  him  into 
a  generous  insensibility  of  all  the  sorrows  and  anxieties  of 
this  life,  and  his  inquiry  would  not  be,  whether  these 
things  required  of  him  are  easy,  but  whether  they  are 
necessary  to  obtain  eternal  happiness,  and  avoid  everlast- 
ing misery. 

When  we  suffer  any  reproach  or  contempt  on  a  religious 
account,  how  would  a  due  estimate  of  eternal  things  for- 
tify us  with  undaunted  courage,  and  make  us  willing  to 
climb  to  heaven  through  disgrace,  rather  than  sink  to  hell 
with  general  applause ! 

How  would  a  realizing  view  of  eternal  things  animate 
us  in  our  devotions  ?  Were  this  thought  impressed  upon 
our  hearts  when  in  the  secret  or  social  duties  of  religion, 
*'I  am  now  acting  for  eternity,"  do  you  think  we  should 
pray,  read,  or  hear  with  so  much  indifierency  and  languor  ? 
O  no ;  it  would  rouse  us  out  of  our  dead  frames,  and  call 
forth  all  the  vi2:or  of  our  souls.  With  what  unwearied 
importunity  should  we  cry  to  God !  with  what  eagerness 
hear  the  word  of  salvation !  How  powerful  an  influence 
would  a  view  of  futurity  have  to  alarm  the  secure  sinner 
that  has  thought  little  of  eternity  all  his  life,  though  it  be 
the  only  thing  worth  thinking  of! 

How  would  it  hasten  the  determination  of  the  lingering, 
wavering  sinner,  and  shock  him  at  the  thought  of  living 
one  day  unprepared  on  the  brink  of  eternity  !  In  a  word, 
a  suitable  impression  of  this  would  quite  alter  the  aspect 
of  things  in  the  world,  and  would  turn  the  concern  and 

10* 


114  CHRIST   PllECIOUS  TO 

activity  of  the  world  into  another  cLannel.  Eternity  tlien 
would  be  the  principal  concern.  Our  inquiries  would  not 
be,  Who  will  show  us  any  temporal  good  ?  What  shall 
we  eat,  or  what  shall  we  drink  ?  But,  What  shall  we  do 
to  be  saved  ?  How  shall  we  escape  the  wrath  to  come  ? 
Let  us  then  endeavor  to  impress  our  hearts  with  invisible 
things,  and  for  that  purpose  consider,  that. 

We  shall,  ere  long,  be  ingulfed  in  this  awful  eternity, 
whether  we  think  of  it  or  not.  A  few  days  or  years  will 
launch  us  there ;  and  0,  the  surprising  scenes  that  will 
then  open  to  us ! 

Without  deep  impressions  of  eternity  on  our  hearts,  and 
frequent  thoughtfnlness  about  it,  we  cannot  be  prepared 
for  it.  And  if  we  are  not  prepared  for  it,  O,  how  incon- 
ceivably miserable  our  case !  But  if  prepared,  how  incon- 
ceivably happy ! 

■ -^—^ 


XI. 

CHRIST  PRECIOUS  TO  ALL  TRUE  BELIEVERS. 

"  Unto  you,  therefore,  which  believe,  He  is  precious." — 1  Peter,  ii.  7. 

Yes,  blessed  be  God  !  though  a  great  part  of  the  crea- 
tion is  disaffected  to  Jesus  Christ ;  though  fallen  spirits, 
both  in  flesh  and  without  flesh,  both  upon  earth  and  in 
hell,  neglect  him,  or  profess  themselves  open  enemies  to 
him,  yet  he  is  precious — precious  not  only  in  himself,  not 
only  to  his  Father,  not  only  to  the  choirs  of  heaven,  who 
behold  his  full  glory  without  a  veil,  but  precious  to  some 
even  in  our  guilty  world ;  precious  to  a  sort  of  persons  of 
our  sinful  race  ;  who  make  no  great  figare  in  mortal  eyes, 
who  have  no  idea  of  their  own  goodness  ;  who  are  mean 
unworthy  creatures  in  their  own  view,  and  who  are  gen- 
erally despicable  in  view  of  others ;  I  mean  he  is  precious 
to  ail  true  believers.  And  though  they  are  but  few  com- 
paratively in  our  world ;  though  there  are,  I  am  afraid, 
but  few  additions  made  to  them  from  among  us;  yet, 
blessed  be  God,  there  are  some  believers  even  upon  our 
guilty  globe  ;  and,  I  doubt  not,  but  I  am  now  speaking  to 
some  such.     My  believing  brethren,  (if  I  may  venture  to 


ALL   TKUE   BELIEVERS.  115 

claim  kindred  with  you,)  I  am  now  entering  upon  a  design 
which  I  know  you  have  much  at  heart :  and  that  is,  to 
make  the  blessed  Jesus  more  precious  to  you,  and,  if  possi- 
ble, to  recommend  him  to  the  affections  of  the  crowd  that 
neglect  him.  You  know,  alas!  you  love  him  but  little, 
but  very  little,  compared  to  his  infinite  excellency  and 
your  obligations  to  him ;  and  you  know  that  multitudes 
love  him  not  at  all.  Whatever  they  profess,  their  practice 
shows  that  their  carnal  minds  are  at  enmity  against  him. 
This  you  often  see,  and  the  sight  affects  your  hearts.  It 
deeply  affects  you  to  think  so  much  excellency  should  be 
neglected  and  despised,  and  so  much  love  meet  with  such 
base  returns  of  ingratitude. 

To  you  that  believe,  he  is  precious. — He  ? — Who  ?  Is  it 
mammon,  the  god  of  the  world  ?  Is  it  pleasure,  or  honor  ? 
No ;  none  of  these  is  the  darling  of  the  believing  heart. 
But  it  is  he  who  is  the  uppermost  in  every  pious  heart ; 
he  who  is  first  in  the  thoughts  and  affections ;  he  whom 
every  friend  of  his  must  know,  even  without  a  name ;  if 
it  be  said  of  him,  he  is  precious,  this  is  enough  to  distin- 
guish him  from  all  others.  It  is  this  heavenly  jewel  that 
is  precious  to  believers. 

"  To  you  that  believe,  he  is  precious  ;^^  i.  e.,  he  is  highly 
valued  by  you.  You  esteem  him  one  of  infinite  worth, 
and  he  has  the  highest  place  in  your  affections.  He  is 
dearer  to  your  tiearts  than  all  other  persons  and  things. 
"  To  you  that  believe,  he  is  preciousness ;"  preciousness  in 
the  abstract;  all  preciousness,  and  nothing  but  precious- 
ness ;  a  precious  stone  without  one  blemish. 

"  To  you  which  believe,  he  is  precious ;"  that  is  to  say, 
the  value  of  this  precious  stone  is,  alas !  unknown  to  the 
crowd.  It  is  so  far  from  being  precious,  that  it  is  a  stone 
of  stumbling,  and  a  rock  of  offence ;  a  stone  disallowed  of 
men,  rejected  even  by  the  builders,  but  you  believers,  ye 
happy  fe^V,  have  another  estimate  of  it.  Faith  presents 
him  to  your  view  in  a,  just  light  and  directs  you  to  form  a 
proper  estimate  of  him. 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  Jesus  should  be  precious  to  believ- 
ers, when  he  is  so  precious  in  himself,  and  in  his  offices, 
so  precious  to  the  angelic  armies,  and  so  precious  to  his 
Father  ? 

1.  He  is  precious  in  himself  He  is  Immanuel,  God- 
man  ;    and    consequently,   whatever    excellences    belong 


116  CHRIST   PRECIOUS   TO 

either  to  the  divine  or  human  nature,  centre  in  him.  If 
wisdom,  power,  and  goodness,  divine  or  human,  created  or 
uncreated,  can  render  him  worthy  of  the  highest  affection, 
he  has  a  just  claim  to  it. — Whatever  excellences,  natural 
or  moral,  appear  in  any  part  of  the  vast  universe,  they  are 
but  flxint  shadows  of  his  beauty  and  glory. 

2.  The  Lord  Jesus  is  precious  in  his  offices.  His  media- 
torial office  is  generally  subdivided  into  three  parts:  name- 
ly, that  of  a  prophet,  of  a  priest,  and  of  a  king ;  and  how 
precious  is  Christ  in  each  of  these  I 

As  a  propliet,  how  sweet  are  his  instructions  to  a  be- 
wildered soul !     How  precious  the  words  of  his  lips,  Avhich 
are  the  words  of  eternal  life  !     IIow  delightful  to  sit  and 
hear  him  teach  the  way  of  duty  and  happiness,  revealing 
the  Father,  and  the  wonders  of  the  invisible  state !     How 
transporting  to  hear  him  declare  upon  what  terms  an  of- 
fended God  may  be  reconciled !  a  discovery  beyond  the 
searches  of  all  the  sages  and  philosophers  of  the  heathen 
Avorld !     How  reviving  it  is  to  listen  to  his  gracious  prom- 
ises and  invitations ;  promises  and  invitations  to  the  poor, 
the  weary,  and  heavy  laden,  the  broken-hearted,  and  even 
to  the  ciiicf  of  sinners!     But  this  external  objective  in- 
struction is  not  all  that  Christ  as  a  prophet  communicates ; 
and,  indeed,  did  he  do  no  more  than  this,  it  would  answer 
no  valuable  end.     The  mind  of  man,  in  his  present  fallen 
state,  like  a  disordered  eye,  .is  incapable  of  perceiving  di- 
vine things  in  a  proper  light,  however  clearly  they  are 
revealed ;  and  therefore,  till  the  perceiving  fliculty  be  rec- 
tified, all  external  revelation  is  in  vain,  and  is  only  like 
opening  a  fair  prospect  to  a  blind  eye.     Hence  this  great 
Prophet, — carries  his  instructions  farther,  not  only  by  pro- 
posing divine  things  in  a  clear  objective  light  by  his  word, 
but  inwardly  enlightening  the  mind,  and  enabling  it  to 
perceive  what  is  revealed  by  his  Spirit.     And  how  pre- 
cious are  these  internal  subjective  instructions !    How  sweet 
to  feel  a  disordered,  dark  mind  opening  to  admit  the  shi- 
nings  of  heavenly  day;  to  perceive  the  glory  of  God  in 
the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  beauties  of  holiness,  and  the 
majestic  wonders  of  the  eternal  world  !     O  precious  Jesus ! 
let  us  all  this  day  feel  thine  enlightening  influences,  that 
experience  may  teach  us  how  sweet  they  are!     Come, 
great  Prophet!  come,  and  make  thy  Spirit  our  teacher, 
and  then  shall  we  be  divinely  wise ! 


ALL   TRUE   BELIEVERS.  117 

Again,  the  Lord  Jesus  is  precious  to  believers  as  a  great 
High  Priest.  As  a  high  priest,  he  made  a  complete 
atonement  for  sin  by  his  propitiatory  sacrifice  on  the  cross ; 
and  he  still  makes  intercession  for  the  transgressors  on  his 
throne  in  heaven.  It  was  his  sacrifice  that  satisfied  the  de- 
mands of  the  law  and  justice  of  God,  and 'rendered  him 
reconcilable  to  the  guilty,  upon  terms  consistent  with  his 
honor  and  the  rights  of  his  government.  It  was  by  vir- 
tue of  this  sacrifice  that  he  procured  pardon  o'f  sin,  the 
favor  of  God,  freedom  from  hell,  and  eternal  life  for  con- 
demned obnoxious  rebels.  And  such  of  you  who  have 
ever  felt  the  pangs  of  a  guilty  conscience,  and  obtained 
relief  from  Jesus  Christ,  you  can  tell  how  precious  his  ato- 
ning sacrifice.  How  did  it  ease  your  self-tormenting  con- 
science, and  heal  your  broken  hearts  1  How  did  it 
change  the  frowns  of  an  angry  God  into  smiles  of  love, 
and  your  trembling  aj^prehensions  of  vengeance  into  de- 
lightful hopes  of  mercy ! 

Let  us  next  turn  our  eyes  upwards  and  view  this  great 
High  Priest  as  our  intercessor  in  the  presence  of  God. 
There  he  appears  as  a  lamb  that  was  slain,  bearing  the  me- 
morials of  his  sacrifice,  and  putting  the  Father  in  remem- 
brance of  the  blessings  purchased  for  his  people.  jSTow 
how  precious  must  Christ  appear  in  the  character  of  Inter- 
cessor !  •  That  the  friendless  sinner  should  have  an  all- 
prevailing  advocate  in  the  court  of  heaven  to  undertake 
his  cause  !  That  the  great  High  Priest  should  offer  up  the 
gTateful  incense  of  his  own  merit,  with  the  prayers  of  the 
saints  1  That  he  should  not  intercede  occasionally,  but 
always  appear  in  the  holy  of  holies  as  the  constant  ever- 
living  intercessor,  and  maintain  the  same  interest,  the  same 
importunity  at  all  times,  even  when  the  petitions  of  his 
people  languish  upon  their  lips !  What  delightful  reflections 
are  these,  and  how  warmly  may  they  recommend  the  Lord 
Jesus  to  the  hearts  of  believers  !  How  just  is  the  apostle's 
inference,  Hvaing  a  High  Priest  over  the  hov^e  of  God,  let 
Its  draiu  near  ivith  a  true  heart  in  full  assurance  of  faith  ;  and 
let  us  hold  fast  the  profession  of  our  faith  without  loavering. 

Let  me  add,  the  kingly  of&ce  of  Christ  is  precious  to  be- 
lievers. As  king,  he  gives  laws,  laws  perfectly  wise  and 
good,  and  enforced  with  the  most  important  sanctions,  ev- 
erlasting rewards  and  punishments.  As  king,  he  appoints 
ordinances  of  worship.     And  how  sweet  to  converse  with 


118  CHRIST   PRECIOUS  TO 

him  in  tliese  ordinances,  and  to  be  freed  from  perplexity 
from  the  manner  of  worship  which  God  will  accept  with- 
out being  exposed  to  that  question  so  confounding  to  will- 
worshipers,  ivho  hath  required  this  at  your  hands?  As 
king,  he  is  head  over  all  things  to  his  church,  and  man- 
ages the  whol5  creation,  as  is  most  subservient  to  her  good. 
And  how  precious  must  he  be  in  this  august  character  to 
the  feeble,  helpless  believer !  But  this  is  not  the  whole  ex- 
ercise of  the  royal  power  of  Christ.  He  not  only  makes 
laws  and  ordinances,  and  restrains  the  enemies  of  his  peo- 
ple, but  he  exercises  his  power  inwardly  upon  their  hearts. 
He  is  the  king  of  souls;  he  reigns  in  the  hearts  of  his  sub- 
jects ;  and  how  infinitely  dear  and  precious  is  he  in  this 
view !  'To  feel  him  subdue  the  rebellion  within,  sweetly 
bending  the  stubborn  heart  into  willing  obedience,  and  re- 
ducing every  thought  into  a  cheerful  captivity  to  himself, 
writing  his  law  upon  the  heart,  making  the  dispositions  of 
his  subjects  a  transcript  of  his  will,  corresponding  to  it, 
like  wax  to  the  seal,  how  delightful  is  all  this !  O  the 
pleasure  of  humble  submission !  How  pleasant  to  lie  as 
subjects  at  the  feet  of  this  mediatorial  king  without  arro- 
gating the  sovereignty  ourselves,  for  which  we  are  utterly 
insufficient !  Blessed  Jesus !  thus  reign  in  our  hearts  ! 
thus  subdue  the  nations  to  the  obedience  of  faith  !  Gird 
thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh,  0  most  Mighty  !  and  ride  'prosper- 
ously, attend  luith  inajesty,  truth,  meekness,  and  righteousness. 
Send  the  rod  of  thy  strength  out  to  Zion  ;  rule  thou  in  the 
'midst  of  thine  enemies,  rule  us,  and  subdue  the  rebel  in  our 
hearts. 

3.  He  is  precious  to  all  the  angels  of  heaven.  Angels 
saw  him,  and  admired  and  loved  him  in  the  various 
stages  of  his  life,  from  his  birth  to  his  return  to  his  na- 
tive heaven.  In  every  hour  of  difficulty  they  were  ready 
to  fly  to  his  aid.  He  was  seen  of  angels  in  his  hard 
conflict  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane ;  and  one  of  them 
appeared  unto  him  from  heaven  strengthening  him.  With 
what  wonder,  sympathy,  and  readiness  did  this  angelic  as- 
sistant raise  his  prostrate  Lord  from  the  cold  ground,  w'ipe 
off  his  bloody  sweat,  and  support  his  sinking  spirit  with 
divine  encouragement !  But  O !  ye  blessed  angels,  ye 
usual  spectators,  and  adorers  of  the  divine  glories  of  our 
Eedeemer,  with  what  astonishment  and  horror  were  you 
struck  when  you  saw  him  expire  on  the  cross ! 


ALL  TPwUE   BELIEVERS.  119 

But  to  bring  his  wortli  to  the  highest  standard  of  all,  I 
add, 

4.  He  is  infinitely  precions  to  his  Father,  who  thoroughly 
knows  him,  and  is  an  infallible  judge  of  real  worth.  He 
proclaimed  more  than  once  from  the  excellent  glory.  This 
is  rtiy  beloved  Son  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased  ;  hear  ye  him. 
Behold,  says  be,  m,y  servant  whom  I  uphold ;  mine  elect  in 
luhom  my  soul  delighteth.  And  shall  not  the  love  of  the 
omniscient  God  have  weight  with  believers  to  love  him 
too  ?  It  is  the  characteristic  of  even  the  meanest  believer, 
that  he  is  God-like.  He  is  the  partaker  of  the  divine  nature, 
and  therefore  views  things,  in  some  measure,  as  God  does,  and 
is  affected  towards  them  as  God  is,  though  there  be  an  infi- 
nite difference  as  to  the  degree.  He  prevailingly  loves  what 
God  loves,  and  that  because  God  loves  it.  And,  my  hearers, 
what  think  you  of  Christ  ?  Will  you  not  think  of  him  as 
believers  do  ?  If  so,  he  will  be  precious  to  your  hearts 
above  all  things  for  the  future.  Or  if  you  disregard  this 
standard  of  excellence,  as  being  but  the  estimate  of  fallible 
creatures,  will  you  not  think  of  him  as  angels  do  ?  he  died 
for  you,  which  is  more  than  ever  he  did  for  them,  and  will 
you  not  love  him  after  all  this  love  ?  Blessed  Jesus !  may 
not  one  congregation  be.  got  together,  even  upon  our 
guilty  earth,  that  shall  in  this  respect  be  like  the  angels, 
all  lovers  of  thee  ?  O !  why  should  this  be  impossible, 
while ,  they  are  all  so  much  in  need  of  thee,  all  so  much 
obliged  to  thee,  and  thou  art  so  lovely  in  thyself!  Why, 
my  brethren,  should  not  this  congregation  be  made  up  of 
such,  and  such  only,  as  are  lovers  of  Jesus?  Why  should 
he  not  be  precious  to  every  one  of  you,  rich  and  poor,  old 
and  young,  white  and  black  ?  What  reason  can  any  one 
of  you  give  why  you  in  particular  should  neglect  him? 
I  am  sure  you  can  give  none. 

If  all  this  has  no  weight  with  you,  let  me  ask  you  fur- 
ther, will  you  not  agree  to  that  estimate  of  Jesus  which 
his  Father  has  of  him  ?  How  must  Jehovah  resent  it  to 
see  a  worm  at  his  footstool  daring  to  despise  him,  whom  he 
loves  so  highly  ! 

But  I  am  shocked  at  my  own  attempt.  O  precious 
Jesus!  are  matters  come  to  that  pass  in  our  world,  that 
creatures  bought  with  thy  blood,  creatures  that  owe  all 
their  hopes  to  thee,  should  stand  in  need  of  persuasions  to 
love  thee  ?     What  horrors  attend  the  thought !     However, 


120  CHRIST   PRECIOUS  TO 

blessed  be  God,  there  are  some,  even  among  men,  to  whom 
he  is  precious.  This  world  is  not  entirely  peopled  with 
the  despisers  of  Christ.  To  as  many  of  you  as  believe,  he 
is  precious,  though  to  none  else. 

Would  you  know  the  reason  of  this  ?  I  will  tell  you : 
none  but  believers  have  eyes  to  see  his  glory,  none  but 
they  are  sensible  of  their  need  of  him,  and  none  but  they 
have  learned  from  experience  how  precious  he  is. 

1.  None  but  believers  have  eyes  to  see  the  glory  of 
Christ.  As  the  knowledge  of  Christ  is  entirely  from  reve- 
lation, an  avowed  unbeliever,  who  rejects  that  revelation, 
can  have  no  right  knowledge  of  him,  and  therefore  must  be 
entirely  indifferent  towards  him,  as  one  unknown,  or  must 
despise  and  abhor  him  as  an  enthusiast  or  impostor.  But 
one,  who  is  not  an  unbeliever  in  profession  or  speculation, 
may  yet  be  destitute  of  that  faith  which  constitutes  a  true 
believer,  and  which  renders  Jesus  precious  to  the  soul. 
True  faith  includes  not  only  a  speculative  knowledge  and 
belief,  but  a  clear,  affecting,  realizing  view,  and  a  hearty 
approbation  of  the  things  known  and  believed  concerning 
Jesus  Christ ;  and  such  a  view,  such  an  approbation,  can- 
not be  produced  by  any  human  means,  but  only  by  the 
enlightening  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  shining  into  the 
heart.  Without  such  a  faith  as  this,  the  mind  is  all  dark 
and  blind  as  to  the  glory  of  Jesus  Christ ;  it  can  see  no 
beauty  in  him,  that  he  should  be  desired. 

2.  N"one  but  believers  are  properly  sensible  of  their  need 
of  Christ.  They  are  deeply  sensible  of  their  ignorance 
and  the  disorder  of  their  understanding,  and  therefore  they 
are  sensible  of  their  want  of  both  the  external  and  internal 
instructions  of  this  divine  Prophet.  But  as  to  others,  they 
are  puffed  up  with  intellectual  pride,  and  apprehend  them- 
selves in  very  little  need  of  religious  instruction,  and 
therefore  they  think  but  very  lightly  of  him.  Believers 
feel  themselves  guilty,  destitute  of  all  righteousness,  and 
incapable  of  making  atonement  for  their  sins,  or  recom- 
mending themselves  to  God,  and  therefore  the  satisfaction 
and  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ  are  most  precious  to  them, 
and  they  rejoice  in  him  as  their  all-prevailing  intercessor. 
But  as  to  the  unbelieving  crowd,  they  have  no  such  mor- 
tifying thoughts  of  themselves !  they  have  so  many  excu- 
ses to  make  for  their  sins,  that  they  bring  down  their  guilt 
to  a  Yory  trifling  thing,  hardly  worthy  of  divine  resent- 


ALL   TRUE   BELIEVERS.  121 

ment:  and  they  magnify  tlieir  good  works  to  such  a 
height,  that  thej  imagine  they  will  nearly  balance  their 
bad,  and  procure  them  some  favor  at  least  from  God,  and 
therefore  they  must  look  upon  this  High  Priest  as  needless. 

3.  None  but  believers  have  known  by  experience  how 
precious  he  is.  They,  and  only  they,  have  known  what 
it  is  to  feel  a  bleeding  heart  healed  by  his  gentle  hand, 
and  a  clamorous  languishing  conscience  pacified  by  his 
atoning  blood.  They,  and  only  they,  know  by  experience 
how  pleasant  it  is  to  converse  with  him  in  his  ordinances, 
and  to  spend  an  hour  of  devotion  in  some  retirement, 
as  it  were  in  his  company.  They,  and  only  they,  have 
experienced  the  exertions  of  his  royal  power,  conquering 
their  mightiest  sins,  and  sweetly  subduing  them  to  him- 
self. These  are,  in  some  measure,  matters  of  experience 
with  every  true  believer,  and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder 
Jesus  should  be  precious  to  them. 

There  is  an  interesting  question,  which,  I  doubt  not,  has 
risen  in  the  n;inds  of  such  of  you  as  have  heard  what  has 
been  said  with  a  particular  application  to  yourselves,  and 
keeps  you  in  a  painful  suspense,  with  an  answer  to  which 
I  shall  conclude :  "Am  I  indeed  a  true  believer?"  may 
some  of  you  say,  "  and  is  Christ  precious  to  me  ?  My  satis- 
faction in  this  sweet  subject  is  vastly  abated,  till  this  ques- 
tion is  solved.  Sometimes,  I  humbly  think,  the  evidence 
is  in  my  favor,  and  I  begin  to  hope  that  he  is  indeed  pre- 
cious to  my  soul ;  but  alas,  my  love  for  him  soon  languishes, 
and  then  my  doubts  and  fears  return,  and  I  know  not  what 
to  do,  nor  what  to  think  of  myself"  Do  not  some  of  you, 
my  brethren,  long  to  have  this  perplexing  case  cleared  up  ? 
O  what  would  you  not  give,  if  you  might  return  home  this 
evening  fully  satisfied  in  this  point?  Well,  I  would 
willingly  help  you,  for  experience  has  taught  me  to 
sympathize  with  j^ou  under  this  difficulty.  O  my  heart  I 
how  often  hast  thou  been  suspicious  of  thyself  in  this 
respect?  The  readiest  way  I  can  now  take  to  clear  up 
the  matter  is  to  answer  another  question,  naturally  result- 
ing from  my  subject;  and  that  is,  "How  does  that  high 
esteem  which  the  believer  has  for  Jesus  Christ  discover 
itself?  Or,  how  does  he  show  that  Christ  is  indeed  pre- 
cious to  him  ?"  I  answer,  he  shows  it  in  various  ways ;  par- 
ticularly by  his  afifectionate  thoughts  of  him,  which  often 
rise  in  his  mind,  and  always  find  welcome  there.     He  dis- 

11 


122         CHRIST   PRECIOUS  TO   ALL   TRUE   BELIEVERS. 

covers  tliat  Jesus  is  precious  to  him,  by  hating  and  resist- 
ing whatever  is  displeasing  to  him,  and  by  parting  -with 
every  thing  that  comes  in  competition  with  him.  He  will 
let  all  go  rather  than  part  with  Christ.  Honor,  reputation, 
ease,  riches,  pleasure,  and  even  life  itself,  are  nothing  to 
him  in  comparison  of  Christ,  and  he  will  run  the  risk  of 
all ;  nay,  will  actually  lose  all,  if  he  may  but  win  Christ. 
When  Jesus  favors  him  with  his  gracious  presence,  and 
revives  him  with  his  influence,  how  does  he  rejoice  ?  But 
when  his  beloved  withdi-aws  himself  and  is  gone,  how  does 
he  lament  his  absence,  and  long  for  his  return  ;  he  weeps 
and  cries  like  a  bereaved,  deserted  orphan,  and  moans  like 
a  loving  turtle  in  the  absence  of  its  mate.  Because  Christ 
is  precious  to  him,  his  interests  are  so  too,  and  he  longs  to 
see  his  kingdom  flourish,  and  all  men  fired  with  his  love. 
"Whatever  has  a  relation  to  his  precious  Saviour  is  for  that 
reason  precious  to  him ;  and  when  he  feels  any  thing  of  a 
contrary  disposition,  alas  I  it  grieves  him,  and  makes  him 
abhor  himself  These  things  are  sufficient  to  show  that  the 
Lord  Jesus  has  his  heart,  and  is  indeed  precious  to  him ; 
and  is  not  this  the  very  picture  of  some  trembling,  doubting 
souls  among  you  ?  If  it  be,  take  courage.  After  so  many 
vain  searches,  you  have  at  length  discovered  the  vf elcome 
secret,  that  Christ  is  indeed  precious  to  you :  and  if  so,  you 
may  be  sure  that  you  are  precious  to  him.  You  shall  he 
viine,  saith  the  Lord,  in  the  day  that  I  miake  up  tny  jeicels.  If 
you  are  now  satisfied,  after  thorough  trial  of  the  case,  re- 
tain your  hope,  and  let  not  every  discouraging  appearance 
renew  your  jealousies  again ;  labor  to  be  steady  and  firm 
Christians,  and  do  not  stagger  through  unbelief.  But,  alas  I 
I  fear  that  many  of  you  know  nothing  experimentally  of 
the  exercises  of  a  believing  heart,  which  I  have  been 
describing,  and  consequently  that  Christ  is  not  precious  to 
you.  If  this  is  the  case,  you  may  be  sure  indeed  you  are 
hateful  to  him.  He  is  angry  with  the  wicked  every  da}'. 
"  Those  that  honor  him  he  will  honor ;  and  they  that  de- 
spise him  shall  be  lightly  esteemed."  And  what  will  you 
do  if  Christ  should  become  your  enemy  and  fight  against 
you?  If  this  precious  stone  should  become  a  stone  of 
stumbling  and  a  rock  of  offence  to  you,  over  Avhich  you 
will  fall  into  ruin,  O  how  dreadful  must  the  fall  be  ?  AV  hat 
must  you  expect  but  to  lie  down  in  unutterable  and  ever- 
lasting sorrow? 


THE   DANGEK,    ETC.  123 


XII. 

THE  DMGER  OF  LUKEWARMNESS  IN  RELIGION. 

t 

"  I  know  thy  works,  that  thou  art  neither  cold  nor  hot :  I  would  thou  wert 
cold  or  hot.  So  then,  because  thou  art  lukewarm,  and  neither  cold  nor 
hot,  I  will  spew  thee  out  of  my  mouth," — Rev.  iii.  15, 16. 

The  soul  of  man  is  endowed  witli  such  active  powers, 
that  it  cannot  be  idle ;  and  if  we  look  round  the  world, 
we  see  it  all  alive  and  busy  in  some  pursuit  or  other.  What 
vigorous  action,  what  labor  and  toil,  what  hurry,  noise, 
and  commotion  about  the  necessaries  of  life,  about  riches 
and  honors !  Here  men  are  in  earnest :  here  there  is  no 
dissimulation,  no  indifference  about  the  event.  They  sin- 
cerely desire  and  eagerly  strive  for  these  transient  delights, 
or  vain  embellishments  of  a  mortal  life. 

And  may  we  infer  further,  that  creatures  thus  formed  for 
action,  and  thus  laborious  and  unwearied  in  these  inferior 
pursuits,  are  proportionately  vigorous  and  in  earnest  in 
matters  of  infinitely  greater  importance?     May  we  con- 
clude, that  they  proportion  their  labor  and  activity  to  the 
nature  of  things,  and  that  they  are  most  in  earnest  where 
they  are  most  concerned  ?     A  stranger  to  our  world,  that 
could  conclude  nothing  concerning  the  conduct  of  man- 
kind but  from  the  generous  presumptions  of  his  own  char- 
itable heart,  might  persuade  himself  that  this  is  the  case. 
But  one  that  has  been  but  a  little  while  conversant  with 
them,  and  taken  the  least  notice  of  their  temper  and  prac- 
tice with  regard  to  that  most  interesting  thing,  rehgion, 
must  know  it  is  quite  otherwise.     For  look  round  you,  and 
what  do  3^ou  see  ?     Here  and  there  indeed  you  may  see  a 
few  unfashionable  creatures,  who  act  as  if  they  looked 
upon  religion  to  be  the  most  interesting  concern ;  and  who 
seemed  determined,  let  others  do  as  they  will,  to  make 
sure  of  salvation,  whatever   becomes   of  them   in   other 
respects ;  but,  as  to  the  generality,  they  are  very  indifferent 
about  it.      They   will  not  indeed   renounce   all   religion 
entirely;    they  will  make  some  little  profession  of  the 
religion  that  happens  to  be  most  modish  or  reputable  in 


124  THE    DANGER   OF  ^ 

their  country,  and  they  will  conform  to  some  of  its  insti- 
tutions ;  but  it  is  a  matter  of  indifference  with  them,  and 
they  are  but  little  concerned  about  it ;  or,  in  the  language 
of  my  text,  they  are  lukewarm^  and  neither  cold  nor  hot. 

This  threatening,  /  loill  spew  thee  out  of  my  mouth,  has 
been  long  ago  executed  with  dreadful  severity  upon  the 
Laodicean  church  ;  and  it  is  now  succeeded  by  a  mongrel 
race  of  Pagans  and  Mahometans  ;  and  the  name  of  Christ  is 
not  heard  amongst  them.  But  though  this  church  has  been 
demolished  for  so  many  hundred  years,  that  lukewarmness 
of  spirit  in  religion  which  brought  this  judgment  upon 
them  still  lives,  and  possesses  the  Christians  of  our  age : 
it  may  therefore  be  expedient  for  us  to  consider  Christ's 
friendly  warning  to  them,  that  we  may  escape  their  doom. 
The  epistles  to  the  seven  churches  in  Asia  are  introduced 
Avith  this  solemn  and  striking  preface,  "  I  know  thy  works:" 
that  is  to  say,  your  character  is  drawn  by  one  that  thor- 
oughly knows  you ;  one  who  inspects  all  your  conduct, 
and  takes  notice  of  you  when  you  take  no  notice  of  your- 
selves ;  one  that  cannot  be  imposed  upon  by  an  empty 
profession  and  artifice,  but  searches  the  heart  and  the  reins. 
O !  that  this  truth  were  deeply  impressed  upon  our  hearts : 
for  surely  we  could  not  trifle  and  offend  while  sensible  that 
we  are  under  the  eye  of  our  Judge ! 

Ihnoio  thy  ivorks,  says  he  to  the  Laodicean  church,  that 
thou  art  neither  cold  nor  hot.  This  church  was  in  a  very 
bad  condition,  and  Christ  reproves  her  with  the  greatest 
severity ;  and  yet  we  do  not  find  her  charged  with  the 
practice  or  toleration  of  any  gross  immoralities,  as  some 
of  the  other  churches  were.  She  is  not  censured  for  in- 
dulging fornication  among  her  members,  or  communicating 
with  idolaters  in  eating  things  sacrificed  to  idols,  like  some 
of  the  rest.  She  was  free  from  the  infection  of  the  Nico- 
laitans,  which  had  spread  among  them.  What,  then,  is  her 
charge?  It  is  a  subtle,  latent  wickedness,  that  has  no 
shocking  appearance,  that  makes  no  gross  blemish  in  the 
outward  character  of  a  possessor  in  the  view  of  others, 
and  may  escape  his  own  notice ;  it  is,  Thoa  art  lukewarm, 
and  neither  cold  nor  hot:  as  if  our  Lord  had  said,  Thou 
dost  not  entirely  renounce  and  openly  disregard  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  and  thou  dost  not  make  it  a  serious  business, 
and  mind  it  as  thy  grand  concern.  Thou  hast  the  form  of 
godliness,  but  deniest  the  po>vor.     All  thy  religion  is  a 


LUKEWARMNESS   IN   RELIGION.  125 

dull  languid  thing,  a  mere  indiffereucy ;  tliine  heart  is  not 
in  it;  it  is  not  animated  with  the  fervor  of  thy  spirit. 
Thou  hast  neither  the  coldness  of  the  profligate  sinner,  nor 
the  sacred  fire  and  life  of  the  true  Christian.  ISTow  such  a 
lukewarmness  is  an  eternal  solecism  in  religion ;  it  is  the 
most  absurd  and  inconsistent  thing  imaginable ;  more  so 
than  avowed  impiety,  or  a  profound  rejection  of  all  reli- 
gion :  therefore,  says  Christ,  I  would  thou  wert  cold  or  hot — 
i..e.  "  You  might  be  any  thing  more  consistently  than  what 
you  are.  If  you  looked  upon  religion  as  a  cheat,  and 
openly  rejected  it,  it  would  not  be  strange  that  you  should 
be  careless  about  it,  and  disregard  it  in  practice.  But  to 
own  it  true,  and  make  a  profession  of  it,  and  yet  be  luke- 
warm and  indifferent  about  it,  this  is  the  most  absurd  con- 
duct that  can  be  conceived  ;  for,  if  it  be  true,  it  is  certainly 
the  most  important  and  interesting  truth  in  all  the  world, 
and  requires  the  utmost  exertion  of  all  your  powers." 

When  Christ  expresses  his  abhorrence  of  lukewarmness 
in  the  form  of  a  wish,  1  luould  thou  ivert  cold  or  hot,  we  are 
not  to  suppose  his  meaning  to  be,  that  coldness  or  fervor 
in  religion  is  equally  acceptable,  or  that  coldness  is  at  all 
acceptable  to  him ;  for  reason  and  revelation  concur  to 
assure  us,  that  the  open  rejection  and  avowed  contempt  of 
religion  is  an  aggravated  wickedness,  as  well  as  an  hypo- 
critical profession.  But  our  Lord's  design  is  to  express  in 
the  strongest  manner  possible,  how  odious  and  abominable 
their  lukewarmness  was  to  him;  as  if  he  should  say, 
*'  Your  state  is  so  bad,  that  you  cannot  change  for  the 
worse ;  I  would  rather  you  were  any  thing  than  what  you 
are."  You  are  ready  to  observe,  that  the  lukewarm  pro- 
fessor is  in  reality  wicked  and  corrupt  at  heart,  a  slave  to 
sin,  and  an  enemy  to  God,  as  well  as  the  avowed  sinner ; 
and  therefore  they  are  both  hateful  in  the  sight  of  God, 
and  both  in  a  state  of  condemnation.  But  there  are  some 
aggravations  peculiar  to  the  lukewarm  professor  that  ren- 
der him  peculiarly  odious:  as,  1.  He  adds  the  sin  of  a  hy- 
pocritical profession  to  his  other  sins.  The  wickedness  of 
irreligion,  and  the  wickedness  of  falsely  pretending  to  be 
religious,  meet  and  centre  in  him  at  once.  2.  To  all  this 
he  adds  the  guilt  of  presumption,  pride,  and  self-flattery, 
imagining  he  is  in  a  safe  state  and  in  favor  with  God ; 
whereas,  he  that  makes  no  pretensions  to  religion,  has  no 
such  umbrage  for  this  conceit  and  delusion.      Thus,  the 

11* 


126  THE   DANGER   OF 

miserable  Laodiccans  "  thought  themselves  rich  and  in- 
creased in  goods,  and  in  need  of  nothing."  3.  Hence  it  fol- 
lows, that  the  lukewarm  professor  is  in  the  most  dangerous 
condition,  as  he  is  not  liable  to  conviction,  nor  so  likely  to 
be  brought  to  repentance.  Thus  publicans  and  harlots 
received  the  gospel  more  readily  than  the  self-righteous 
Pharisees.  4.  The  honor  of  God  and  religion  is  more 
injured  by  the  negligent,  unconscientious  behavior  of  these 
Laodiceans,  than  by  the  vices  of  those  who  make  no  pre- 
tensions to  religion,  with  whom,  therefore,  its  honor  has 
no  connection.  On  these  accounts  you  see  that  lukewarm- 
ness  is  more  aggravatedly  sinful  and  dangerous  than  entire 
coldness  about  religion. 

So  then,  says  Christ,  Because  thou  art  lukeivai^m,  and 
neither  cold  nor  hot,  I  will  spew  thee  out  of  my  inouth.  This 
is  their  doom;  as  if  he  should  say,  "As  lukewarm  water 
is  more  disagreeable  to  the  stomach  than  either  cold  or  hot, 
so  you,  of  all  others,  are  the  most  abominable  to  me.  I 
am  quite  sick  of  such  professors,  and  I  will  cast  them  out 
of  my  church,  and  reject  them  for  ever." 

My  present  design  is  to  expose  the  peculiar  absurdity 
and  wickedness  of  lukewarmness  or  indifference,  a  disease 
that  has  spread  its  deadly  contagion  far  and  wide  among 
us,  and  calls  for  a  speedy  cure.  And  let  me  previously 
observe  to  you,  that,  if  I  do  not  offer  you  sufficient  argu- 
ments to  convince  your  own  reason  of  the  absurdity  and 
wickedness  of  such  a  temper,  then  you  may  indulge  it ; 
but  that  if  my  arguments  are  sufficient,  then  shake  oft*  your 
sloth,  and  be  fervent  in  spirit ;  and  if.  you  neglect  your 
duty,  be  it  at  your  peril. 

In  illustrating  this  point,  I  shall  proceed  upon  this  plain 
principle,  That  religion  is,  of  all  things,  the  most  inwortant  in 
itself  and  the  most  interesting  to  us.  This  we  cannot  deny, 
without  openly  pronouncing  it  an  imposture.  If  there  be 
a  God,  as  religion  teaches  us,  he  is  the  most  glorious,  the 
most  venerable,  and  the  most  lovely  being ;  and  nothing 
can  be  so  important  to  us  as  his  favor,  and  nothing  so  ter- 
rible as  his  displeasure.  If  Jesus  Christ  be  such  a  Saviour 
as  our  religion  represents,  and  we  profess  to  believe,  he 
demands  our  warmest  love  and  most  lively  services.  If 
eternity,  if  heaven  and  hell,  and  the  final  judgment,  are 
realities,  they  arc  certainly  tlie  most  august,  the  most  aw- 
ful, important,  and  interesting  realities;  ajid,  in  compari- 


LUKEWARMNESS   IX   RELIGION.  127 

son  of  tliem,  tlie  most  weighty  concerns  of  the  present  life 
are  but  trifles,  dreams,  and  shadows.  If  prayer  and  other 
religious  exercises  are  our  duty,  certainly  they  require  all 
the  vio'or  of  our  souls  ;  and  nothino-  can  be  more  absurd  or 
incongruous  than  to  perform  them  in  a  spiritless  manner, 
as  if  we  knew  not  what  we  were  about.  If  there  be  any 
life  within  us,  these  are  proper  objects  to  call  it  forth  :  if 
our  souls  are  endowed  with  active  powers,  here  are  objects 
that  demand  their '  utmost  exertion.  Here  we  can  never 
be  so  much  in  earnest  as  the  case  requires.  Trifle  about 
any  thing,  but  0,  do  not  trifle  here !  Be  careless  and  in- 
different about  crowns  and  kingdoms,  about  health,  life, 
and  all  the  world,  but  O  be  not  careless  and  indifferent 
about  such  immense  concerns  as  these ! 

But  to  be  more  particular :  let  us  take  a  view  of  a  luke- 
warm temper  in  various  attitudes,  or  with  respect  to  several 
objects,  particularly  towards  God — towards  Jesus  Christ 
— a  future  state  of  happiness  or  misery — and  in  the  duties 
of  religion. 

1.  Consider  who  and  what  God  is.  He  is  the  original 
uncreated  beauty,  the  ^um  total  of  all  natural  and  moral 
perfections,  the  origin  of  all  the  excellences  that  are  scat- 
tered through  this  glorious  universe;  he  is  the  supreme 
good,  and  the  only  portion  of  oui;  immortal  spirits.  He 
also  sustains  the  most  majestic  and  endearing  relations  to 
us :  our  Father,  our  Preserver,  and  Benefactor,  our  Law- 
giver, and  our  Judge.  And  is  such  a  Being  to  be  put  oft' 
with  heartless,  lukewarm  services  ?  And  are  there  not 
some  lukewarm  Laodiceans  in  this  assembly?  Jesus 
knows  your  works,  that  you  are  neither  cold  nor  hot ;  and 
it  is  fit  you  should  also  know  them. 

2.  Is  lukewarmness  a  proper  temper  towards  Jesus  Christ! 
Is  this  a  suitable  return  for  that  love  which  brought  him 
down  from  his  native  paradise  into  our  wretched  world ! 
That  love  which  kept  his  mind  for  thirty-three  painful  and 
tedious  years  intent-  upon  this  one  object,  the  salvation  of 
sinners?  That  love  which  rendered  him  cheerfully  pa- 
tient of  the  shame,  the  curse,  the  tortures  of  crucifixion, 
and  all  the  agonies  of  the  most  painful  death  ?  Blessed 
Jesus !  ■  is  lukewarmness  a  proper  return  to  thee  for  all 
this  kindness?  No;  methinks  devils  cannot  treat  thee 
worse.  My  fellow-mortals,  my  fellow-sinners,  who  are  the 
subjects  of  all  this  love,  can  you  put  him  off  with  languid 


128  THE   DANGER   OF 

devotions  and  faint  services?  May  not  Christ  justly  wish 
you  were  either  cold  or  hot,  wish  you  were  any  thing, 
rather  than  thus  lukewarm  towards  him  under  a  profession 
of  friendship  ?  Alas !  my  brethren,  if  this  be  your  habitual 
temper,  instead  of  being  saved  by  him  you  may  expect 
he  will  reject  you  with  the  most  nauseating  disgust  and 
abhorrence.     But, 

3.  Is  lukewarmness  and  indifference  a  suitable  temper 
with  respect  to  a  future  state  of  happiness  or  misery  ?  Is 
it  a  suitable  temper  with  respect  to  a  happiness  far  exceed- 
ing the  utmost  bounds  of  our  present  thoughts  and  wishes ; 
a  happiness  beyond  the  grave,   when  all  the  enjoyments 
of  this  transitory  life  have  taken  an  eternal  flight  from  us; 
a  happiness  that  will  last  as  long  as  our  immortal  spirits, 
and  never,  never  fade  or  fly  from  us  ?  Or  are  lukewarm- 
ness and  indifference  a  suitable  temper  with  respect  to  a 
misery  beyond  expression,    beyond  conception  dreadful ; 
a  misery  inflicted  by  a  God  of  almighty  power  and  inex- 
orable justice  upon  a  number  of  obstinate,  incorrigible  rebels 
for  numberless,  willful,  and  daring  provocations,  inflicted 
on  purpose  to  show  his  wrath  and  make  his  power  known ; 
a  misery  proceeding  from   the  united  fury  of  malicious, 
tormenting  devils ;  a  misery  (who  can  bear  up  under  the 
horror  of  the  thought !)  that  shall  last  as  long  as  the  eter- 
nal God  shall  live  to  inflict  it ;  as  long  as  sin  shall  continue 
to  deserve  it ;  as  long  as  an  immortal  spirit  shall  endure 
to  bear  it ;  a  misery  that  shall  never  be  mitigated,  never 
intermitted,  never,  never,  never  sec  an  end  ?     And  remem- 
ber, that  a  state  of  happiness  or  misery  is  not  far  remote 
from  us,  but  near  us,  just  before  us ;  the  next  year,  the 
next  hour,  or  the  next  moment,  we  may  enter  into  it ;  it 
is  a  state  for  which  we  are  now  candidates,  now  upon  trial ; 
now  our  eternal  all  lies  at  stake :  and,  O  sirs,  does  an  in- 
active careless  posture  become  us  in  snch  a  situation  ?     Is 
a  state  of  such  happiness,  or  such  misery ;  is  such  a  state 
just  before  us,  a  matter  of  indifference  4;o  us?     O  can  you 
be  lukewarm  about  such  matters  ?  was  ever  such  prodi- 
gious stupidity  seen  under  the  canopy  of  heaven,  or  even 
in  the  regions  of  hell,  which  abound  with  monstrous  and 
horrid  dispositions.     No ;  the  hardest  ghost  below  cannot 
make  light  of  these  things.     Mortals !  can  you  trifle  about 
them?     Well,  trifle  a  little  longer  and  your  trifling  will  be 
over  for  ever.    You  may  be  indifferent  about  the  improving 


LUKEWAKMNESS   IX   RELIGION.  129 

of  your  time;  but  time  is  not  indifferent  whether  to  pass 
by  or  not;  it  is  determined  to  continue  its  rapid  course, 
and  hurry  you  into  the  ocean  of  eternity,  tiiough  you 
should  continue  sleeping  and  dreaming  through  all  the 
passage.  Therefore  awake,  arise ;  exert  yourselves  before 
your  doom  be  unchangeably  fixed. 

4.  Let  us  see  how  this  lukewarm  temper  agrees  with  the 
duties  of  religion:  And  as  I  cannot  particularize  them  all, 
I  shall  only  mention  an  instance  or  two.  View  a  luke- 
warm professor  in  prayer ;  he  pays  to  an  omniscient  God 
the  compliment  of  a  bended  knee,  as  though  he  could  im- 
pose upon  him  with  such  an  empty  pretence.  AYhen  he  is 
addressing  the  Supreme  Majesty  of  heaven  and  earth,  he 
hardly  even  recollects  in  whose  presence  he  is,  or  whom 
he  is  speaking  to,  but  seems  as  if  he  were  worshiping 
without  an  object,  or  pouring  out  empty  words  into  the 
air :  perhaps  through  the  whole  prayer  he  had  not  so  much 
as  one  solemn  affecting  thought  of  that  God  whose  name 
he  so  often  invoked.  And  can  there  be  a  more  shocking,* 
impious,  and  daring  conduct  than  this  ?  What  are  such 
prayers  but  solemn  mockeries  and  disguised  insults  ?  And 
yet,  is  not  this  the  usual  method  in  which  many  of  you 
address  the  great  God  ?  Such  sacrifices  must  be  an  abomi- 
nation to  the  Lord ; — and  it  is  astonishing  that  he  has  not 
mingled  your  blood  with  your  sacrifices,  and  sent  you 
from  your  knees  to  hell — from  thoughtless  unmeaning 
prayer,  to  real  blasphemy  and  torture. 

The  next  instance  I  shall  mention  is  with  regard  to  the 
word  of  God.  You  own  it  divine,  you  profess  it  the 
standard  of  your  religion,  and  the  most  excellent  book  in 
the  world.  Now  if  this  be  the  case,  it  is  God  that  speaks  to 
you ;  it  is  God  that  sends  you  an  epistle  when  you  are  read- 
ing or  hearing  his  word.  How  impious  and  provoking  then 
must  it  be  to  neglect  it,  to  let  it  lie  by  you  as  an  antiquated, 
useless  book,  or  to  read  it  in  a  careless,  superficial  manner, 
and  hear  it  with  an  inattentive  wandering  mind  ?  one  would 
think  you  would  tremble  at  his  word.  It  reveals  the  only  \ 
method  o^"  your  salvation :  it  contains  the  only  charter  of  ' 
all  your  blessings.  In  short,  you  have  the  nearest  personal 
interest  in  it,  and  can  you  be  unconcerned  hearers  of  it? 
I  am  sure  your  reason  and  conscience  must  condemn  such 
stupidity  and  indifference  as  incongruous,  and  outrageously 
wicked. 


130  THE   DANGER  OF 

And  now  let  me  remind  you  of  the  observation  I  made 
when  entering  upon  this  subject,  that  if  I  should  not  offer 
sufficient  matter  for  conviction,  you  might  go  on  in  your 
lukewarmness ;  but  if  your  own  reason  should  be  fully 
convinced  that  such  a  temper  is  not  wicked  and  unreason- 
able, then  you  might  indulge  it  at  your  peril.  What  do 
you  say  now  in  the  issue?  Ye  modern  Laodiceans,  are 
you  not  yet  struck  with  horror  at  the  thought  of  that  in- 
s.ipid,  formal,  spiritless  religion  you  have  hitherto  been 
contented  with?  And  do  you  not  see  the  necessity  of 
following  the  advice  of  Christ  to  the  Laodicean  church,  he 
zealous,  be  fervent  for  the  future,  and  re'pent,  bitterly  repent 
of  what  is  past?  To  urge  this  the  more,  I  have  two  con- 
siderations in  reserve,  of  no  small  weight.  1.  Consider 
the  difficulties  and  dangers  in  your  way,  O  sirs,  if  you 
knew  the  difficulty  of  the  work  of  your  salvation,  and  the 
great  danger  of  miscarrying  in  it,  you  could  not  be  so  in- 
different about  it,  nor  could  you  flatter  yourselves  such  lan- 
guid endeavors  will  ever  succeed.  Consider,  you  have  strong 
lusts  to  be  subdued,  a  hard  heart  to  be  broken,  a  variety 
of  graces  which  you  are  entirely  destitute  of,  to  be  im- 
planted and  cherished,  and  that  in  an  unnatural  soil,  where 
they  will  not  grow  without  careful  cultivation.  In  short, 
you  must  be  made  new  men,  quite  other  creatures  than 
you  now  are.  And,  O  !  can  this  work  be  successfully  per- 
formed while  you  make  such  faint  and  feeble  efforts  ? 
Again,  your  dangers  are  also  great  and  numerous ;  you  are 
in  danger  from  presumption  and  from  despondency ;  from 
false  fires  and  enthusiastic  hearts;  in  danger  from  self- 
righteousness,  and  from  open  wickedness,  from  your  own 
corrupt  hearts,  from  this  ensnaring  world,  and  from  the 
temptations  of  the  devil :  you  are  in  great  danger  of  sleep- 
ing on  in  security,  without  ever  being  thoroughly  awa- 
kened ;  or  if  you  should  be  awakened,  you  are  in  danger 
of  resting  short  of  vital  religion ;  and  in  either  of  these 
cases  you  are  undone  for  ever.  In  a  word,  dangers  crowd 
thick  around  you  on  every  hand,  from  every  quarter; 
dangers,  into  which  thousands,  millions  of  your  fdllow-men 
have  fallen  and  never  recovered.  2.  Consider  how  earnest 
and  active  men  are  in  other  pursuits.  What  labor  and 
toil!  what  schemes  and  contrivances!  what  solicitude 
about  success !  what  fears  of  disappointment !  hands,  heads, 
hearts,  all  busy.     And  all  this  to  procure  those  enjoyments 


lukewarmjstess  in  religion.  131 

whicli  at  best  they  cannot  long  retain,  and  which  the  next 
hour  may  tear  from  them.  To  acquire  a  name  or  a  diadem, 
to  obtain  riches  or  honors,  what  hardships  are  undergone ! 
what  dangers  dared !  what  rivers  of  blood  shed !  how 
many  millions  of  lives  have  been  lost!  and  how  many 
more  endangered !  in  short,  the  world  is  all  alive,  all  in 
motion  with  business.  On  sea  and  land,  at  home  and 
abroad,  you  will  find  men  eagerly  pursuing  some  temporal 
good.  They  grow  gray -headed,  and  die  in  the  attempt 
without  reaching  their  end  ;  but  this  disappointment  does 
not  discourage  the  survivors  and  successors ;  still  they  will 
continue,  or  renew  the  endeavor.  N'ow  here  men  act  like 
themselves ;  and  they  show  they  are  alive,  and  endowed 
with  powers  of  great  activity.  And  shall  they  be  thus 
zealous  and  laborious  in  the  pursuit  of  earthly  vanities, 
and  be  quite  indifferent  and  sluggish  in  the  infinitely  more 
important  concerns  of  eternity  ?  What,  solicitous  about  a 
mortal  body,  but  careless  about  an  immortal  soul !  Eager 
in  j^ursuit  of  joys  of  a  few  years,  but  careless  and  remiss 
in  seeking  an  immortality  of  perfect  happiness !  Anxious 
to  avoid  poverty,  shame,  sickness,  pain,  and  all  the  evils, 
real  or  imaginary,  of  the  present  life  ;  but  indifferent  about 
a  whole  eternity  of  the  most  intolerable  misery !  O  the 
destructive  folly,  the  daring  wickedness  of  such  conduct ! 
My  brethren,  is  religion  the  only  thing  which  demands  the 
utmost  exertion  of  all  your  powers,  and,  alas!  is  that  the 
only  thing  in  which  you  will  be  dull  and  inactive  ?  Is  ever- 
lasting happiness  the  only  thing  about  which  you  will  be 
remiss  ?  Is  eternal  punishment  the  only  misery  which  you 
are  indifferent  whether  you  escape  or  not?  You  can  love 
the  world,  you  can  love  a  father,  a  child,  or  a  fi'iend ;  nay, 
you  can  love  that  abominable,  hateful  thing,  sin;  these 
you  can  love  with  ardor,  serve  with  pleasure,  pursue  with 
eagerness,  and  with  all  your  might ;  but  the  ever-blessed 
God,  and  the  Lord  Jesus  your  best  friend,  you  put  off  with 
a  lukewarm  heart  and  spiritless  services.  0  inexpressibly 
monstrous!  Lord,  what  is  this  that  has  befallen  thine  own 
offspring,  that  they  are  so  disaffected  towards  thee  ?  Blessed 
Jesus,  what  hast  thou  done  that  thou  shouldst  be  treated 
thus  ?  0  sinners !  what  will  be  the  consequence  of  such 
a  conduct?  Will  that  God  take  you  into  the  bosom  of  his 
love  ?  will  that  Jesus  save  you  by  his  blood,  whom  you 
make  so  light  of?     No,  you  may  go  and  seek  a  heaven 


132  THE   DANGER,   ETC. 

where  you  can  find  it;  for  God  will  give  you  none.  Go, 
sbift  for  yourselves,  or  look  out  for  a  Saviour  where  you 
will ;  Jesus  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  you,  except  to 
take  care  to  inflict  proper  punishment  upon  you  if  you 
retain  this  lukewarm  temper  towards  him.  Hence,  by  way 
of  improvement,  learn, 

1.  The  vanity  and  wickedness  of  a  lukewarm  religion. 
Though  you  should  profess  the  best  religion  that  ever  came 
from  heaven,  it  will  not  save  you ;  nay,  it  condemns  you 
with  peculiar  aggravations  if  you  are  lukewarm  in  it. 
This  spirit  of  indifference  diffused  through  it,  turns  it  all 
into  deadly  poison.  Your  religious  duties  are  all  abomin- 
able to  God  while  the  vigor  of  your  spirits  is  not  exerted 
in  them.  Your  prayers  are  insults,  and  he  will  answer 
them  as  such  by  terrible  things  in  righteousness.  And  do 
any  of  you  hope  to  be  saved  by  such  a  religion  ?  I  tell 
you  from  the  God  of  truth,  it  will  be  so  far  from  saving 
you,  that  it  will  certainly  ruin  you  for  ever :  continue  as 
you  are  to  the  last,  and  you  will  be  as  certainly  damned  to 
all  eternity,  as  Judas,  or  Beelzebub,  or  any  ghost  in  hell. 
But,  alas! 

2.  How  common,  how  fashionable  is  this  lukewarm  re- 
ligion ?  This  is  the  prevailing  epidemical  sin  of  our  age 
and  country  ;  and  it  is  well  if  it  has  not  the  same  fatal 
effect  upon  us  as  it  had  upon  Laodicea.  But  it  is  our  first 
concern  to  know  how  it  is  wdth  ourselves ;  therefore,  let 
this  inquiry  go  round  this  congregation — Are  you  not  such 
lukewarm  Christians?  Is  there  any  fire  and  life  in  your 
devotions?  Or  are  not  all  your  active  powers  engrossed 
by  other  pursuits?  Impartially  make  the  inquiry,  for  in- 
finitely more  depends  upon  it  than  upon  your  temporal 
life. 

8.  If  you  have  hitherto  been  possessed  with  this  Laodi- 
cean spirit,  I  beseech  you  indulge  it  no  longer.  You  have 
seen  that  it  mars  all  your  religion,  and  will  end  in  your 
eternal  ruin :  and  I  hope  you  are  not  so  hardened  as  to  be 
proof  against  the  energy  of  this  consideration.  Why  halt 
you  so  long  between  two  opinions?  I  would  you  ivere  cold 
or  hot.  Either  make  thorough  work  of  religion,  or  do  not 
pretend  to  it.  Why  should  you  profess  a  religion  which 
is  but  an  insipid  indifference  with  you?  Such  a  religion 
is  good  for  nothing.  Therefore  awake,  arise,  exert  your- 
selves.     Strive   to  enter   in    at   the   strait    gate;    strive 


THE   GENERAL   RESURRECTION.  133 

earnestly,  or  you  are  shut  out  for  ever.  Infuse  heart  and 
spirit  into  your  religion.  "  Whatsoever  your  hand  findeth 
to  do,  do  it  with  your  might.''  Now,  this  moment,  while 
my  voice  sounds  in  your  ears,  now  begin  the  vigorous  en- 
terprise. Now  collect  all  the  vigor  of  your  souls,  and 
breathe  it  out  in  such  a  prayer  as  this,  "  Lord,  fire  this 
heart  with  thy  love."  Prayer  is  the  proper  introduction  : 
for  let  me  remind  you  of  what  I  shall  never  forget,  that 
God  is  the  only  author  of  this  sacred  fire ;  it  is  only  he 
that  can  quicken  you ;  therefore,  ye  poor  careless  creatures, 
fly  to  him  in  an  agony  of  importunity,  and  never  desist, 
never  grow  weary  till  you  prevail. 

4.  And  lastly,  let  the  best  of  us  lament  our  lukewarmness, 
and  earnestly  seek  more  fervor  of  spirit.  Some  of  us  have  a 
little  life ;  you  enjoy  some  warm  and  vigorous  moments ;  and 
O !  they  are  divinely  sweet.  But  reflect  how  soon  your 
spirits  flag,  your  devotion  cools,  and  your  zeal  languishes. 
Think  of  this  and  be  humble ;  think  of  this  and  apply  for 
more  life.  You  know  where  to  apply.  Christ  is  your  life : 
therefore,  cry  to  him  for  the  communications  of  it.  "Lord 
Jesus !  a  little  more  life,  a  little  more  vital  heat  to  a  languish- 
ing soul."  Take  this  method,  and  you  shall  run,  and  not  he 
weary:  you  shall  walk,  and  not  he  faint. — Isaiah,  xl.  31. 


■<  ♦»- 


XIII. 

THE  GENERAL  RESURRECTION. 

*•  The  hour  is  coming,  in  the  which  all  that  are  in  the  graves  shall  hear  his 
voice,  and  shall  come  forth  ;  they  that  have  done  good,  unto  the  resurrection 
of  life ;  and  they  that  have  done  evil,  unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation." 
—John,  V.  28,  29. 

Ever  since  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by  sin, 
this  earth  has  been  a  vast  graveyard  or  burying-place  for 
her  children.  In  every  age,  and  in  every  country,  that 
sentence  has  been  executing.  Dust  thou  art,  and  tmto  dust 
shalt  thou  return.  The  earth  has  been  arched  with  graves, 
the  last  lodgings  of  mortals,  and  the  bottom  of  the  ocean 
paved  with  the  bones  of  men.     Human  nature  was  at  first 

12 


184  THE    GENERAL   KESURRECTION. 

confined  to  one  pair,  but  how  soon  and  how  "wide  did  it 
spread !  How  inconceivably  numerous  are  the  sons  of 
Adam !  How  many  different  nations  on  our  globe  contain 
many  millions  of  men,  even  in  one  generation !  And  how 
many  generations  have  succeeded  "One  another  in  the  long 
run  of  near  six  thousand  years !  Let  imagination  call  up 
this  vast  army:  children  that  just  light  upon  our  globe, 
and  then  wing  their  flight  into  an  unknown  world ;  the 
gray-headed  that  have  had  a  long  journey  through  life ; 
the  blooming  youth  and  the  middle-aged,  let  them  pass  in 
review  before  us,  from  all  countries  and  from  all  ages ;  and 
how  vast  and  astonishing  the  multitude !  But  what  has 
become  of  them  all  ?  Alas !  they  are  turned  into  earth, 
their  original  element ;  they  are  all  imprisoned  in  the  grave, 
except  the  present  generation,  and  we  are  dropping  one 
after  another  in  quick  succession  into  that  place  appointed 
for  all  living.  There  has  not  been,  perhaps,  a  moment  of 
time  for  five  thousand  years,  but  what  some  one  or  other 
has  sunk  into  the  mansions  of  the  dead.  The  greatest 
number  of  mankind  beyond  comparison  are  sleeping  under 
ground.  There  lies  beauty  mouldering  into  dust.  There 
lies  the  head  that  once  wore  a  crown,  as  low  and  contempti- 
ble as  the  meanest  beggar.  There  lie  the  mighty  giants, 
the  heroes  and  conquerors,  the  Samsons,  the  Ajaxes,  the 
Alexanders,  and  the  Cisesars  of  the  world !  There  they 
lie — stupid,  senseless,  and  inactive.  There  lie  the  wise  and 
the  learned,  as  helpless  as  the  fool.  There  lie  some  that 
we  once  conversed  with,  some  that  were  our  friends,  our 
companions ;  and  there  lie  our  fathers  and  mothers,  our 
brothers  and  sisters.  And  shall  they  lie  there  always? 
Shall  this  body,  this  curious  workmanship  of  Heaven,  so 
wonderfully  and  fearfully  made,  always  lie  in  ruins,  and 
never  be  repaired  ?  Shall  the  wide-extended  valleys  of  dry 
bones  never  more  live  ?  This  we  know,  that  it  is  not  a 
thing  impossible  ivith  God  to  raise  the  dead.  He  that  could 
first  form  our  bodies  out  of  nothing,  is  certainly  able  to 
form  them  anew,  and  repair  the  wastes  of  time  and  death. 
But  what  is  his  declared  will  in  this  case  ?  On  this  the 
matter  turns ;  and  this  is  fully  revealed  in  my  text.  TJte 
hour  is  coming,  iplien  all  that  are  in  the  grave,  all  that  are 
dead,  without  exception,  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of 
God  and  sJiall  come  forth.  And  for  what  end  shall  they 
come  forth  ?     0 !  for  very  different  purposes  :  so7ne  to  the 


THE    GENERAL   RESUHRECTION.  135 

resurrection  of  life;  and  some  to  the  resurrection  of  damnation  ! 
And.  what  is  the  ground  of  this  distinction  ?  Or  what  is 
the  difference  in  character  between  those  that  shall  receive 
so  different  a  doom  ?  It  is  this,  They  that  have  done  good 
shall  rise  to  life,  and  they  that  have  done  evil  to  damnation.  It 
is  this,  and  this  only,  that  will  then  be  the  rule  of  distinc- 
tion. 

I.  They  that  are  in  the  grave  shall  hear  his  voice.  The 
voice  of  the  Son  of  God  here  probably  means  the  sound 
of  the  archangel's  trumpet,  which  is  called  his  voice,  "be- 
cause sounded  by  his  orders  and  attended  with  his  all- 
quickening  power.  This  all-awakening  call  to  the  tenants 
of  the  grave  we  frequently  find  foretold  in  Scripture.  For 
the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from  heaven  luith  a  shout,  with 
the  voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the  trump  of  God. 

My  brethren,  realize  the  majesty  and  terror  of  this  uni- 
versal alarm.  When  the  dead  are  sleeping  in  the  silent 
grave ;  when  the  living  are  thoughtless  and  unapprehen- 
sive of  the  grand  event,  or  intent  on  other  pursuits ;  some  of 
them  asleep  in  the  dead  of  night ;  some  of  them  dissolved 
in  sensual  pleasures,  eating  and  drinking,  marrying  and  giv- 
ing in  marriage :  in  short,  when  there  are  no  more  visible 
appearances  of  approaching  day,  than  of  the  destruction 
of  Sodom  on  that  fine,  clear  morning  in  which  Lot  fled 
away ;  or  of  the  deluge,  when  Noah  entered  into  the  ark ; 
then,  in  that  hour  of  unapprehensive  security,  then  sud- 
denly shall  the  heavens  open  over  the  astonished  world ; 
then  shall  the  all-alarming  clangor  break  over  their  heads, 
like  a  cla^D  of  thunder  in  a  clear  sky.  Immediately  the 
living  turn  their  gazing  eyes  upon  the  amazing  phenom- 
enon :  a  few  hear  the  long-expected  sound  with  rapture, 
and  lift  up  their  heads  with  joy,  while  the  thoughtless 
world  are  struck  with  the  wildest  horror  and  consternation. 
In  the  same  instant  the  sound  reaches  all  the  mansions  of 
the  dead,  and  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
they  are  raised,  and  the  living  are  changed.  0  what  a 
surprise  will  this  be  to  the  thoughtless  world !  Should 
this  alarm  burst  over  our  heads  this  moment,  into  what  a 
terror  would  it  strike  many  in  this  assembly  ?  Such  will 
be  the  terror,  such  the  consternation,  when  it  actually 
comes  to  pass,  sinners  will  be  the  same  timorous,  self-con- 
demned creatures  then  as  they  are  now.  And  then  they 
will  not  be  able  to  stop  their  ears,  who  are  deaf  to  all  the 


136  THE   GENERAL  KESURKECTION. 

gentle  calls  of  tlie  gospel  now.  Then  the  trump  of  God 
will  constrain  them  to  hear  and  fear,  to  whom  the  minis- 
ters of  Christ  now  preach  in  vain.  Then  they  must  all 
hear,  for, 

II.  My  text  tells  you,  all  that  are  in  the  graves,  all  with- 
out exception,  shall  hear  his  voice.  Now  the  voice  of  mercy 
calls,  reason  pleads,  conscience  warns,  but  multitudes  will 
not  hear.  But  this  is  a  voice  which  shall,  which  must 
reach  every  one  of  the  millions  of  mankind,  and  not  one 
of  them  will  be  able  to  stop  his  ears.  Infants  and  giants, 
kings  and  subjects,  all  ranks,  all  ages  of  mankind  shall 
hear  the  call.  The  living  shall  start  and  be  changed,  and 
the  dead  rise  at  the  sound. 

III.  They  shall  come  forth.  Then,  my  brethren,  your 
dust  and  mine  shall  be  re-animated  and  organized.  And 
what  a  vast  improvement  will  the  frail  nature  of  man 
then  receive  ?  Our  bodies  will  then  be  substantially  the 
same ;  but  how  different  in  qualities,  in  strength,  in  agility, 
in  capacities  for  pleasure  or  pain,  in  beauty  or  deformity, 
in  glory  or  terror,  according  to  the  moral  character  of  the 
persons  to  whom  they  belong  ?  And  now  when  the  bodies 
are  completely  formed  and  fit  to  be  inhabited,  the  souls 
that  once  animated  them,  being  collected  from  heaven  and 
hell,  re-enter  and  take  possession  of  their  old  mansions. 
They  are  united  in  bonds  which  shall  never  more  be  dis- 
solved ;  and  the  mouldering  tabernacles  are  now  become 
everlasting  habitations. 

O  the  glorious,  dreadful  morning  of  the  resurrection ! 
What  scenes  of  unknown  joy  and  terror  will  then  open ! 
Methinks  we  must  always  have  it  in  prospect;  it  must 
even  now  engage  our  thoughts,  and  fill  us  with  trembling 
solicitude,  and  make  it  the  great  object  of  our  labor  and 
pursuit  to  share  in  the  I'esurrection  of  the  just. 

But  for  what  ends  do  these  sleeping  multitudes  rise? 
For  what  purposes  do  they  come  forth  ?     My  text  will  tell 

ly.  They  shall  come  forth,  some  to  the  resurrection  of  life, 
and  some  to  the  resurrection  of  damnation.  They  are  sum- 
moned from  their  graves  to  stand  at  the  bar,  and  brought 
out  of  prison  by  angelic  guards  to  pass  their  last  trial. 
And  as  in  this  impartial  trial  they  will  be  found  to  be  per- 
sons of  very  diftorcnt  characters,  the  righteous  Judge  of 
the  earth  will  accordingly  pronounce  their  difTcreut  doom. 


THE   GENERAL   RESURRECTION.  137 

See  a  glorious  Tnultitude,  luhicJi  no  man  can  number^  openly 
acquitted, j9ro?iow?2cec^  blessed,  and  welcomed  into  the  king- 
dom>.  prepared  for  them  from  the  foundation  of  the  loorld. 
Kow  they  enter  upon  a  state  wliich  deserves  the  name  of 
life.  They  are  all  vital,  all  active,  all  glorious,  all  happy. 
They  shine  brighter  than  the  stars  in  the  firmament ;  like 
the  sun  for  ever  and  ever.  All  their  faculties  overflow 
with  happiness.  They  mingle  with  the  glorious  company 
of  angels;  they  behold  that  Saviour  whom  unseen  they 
loved ;  they  dwell  in  eternal  intimacy  with  the  Father  of 
their  spirits  ;  they  are  employed  with  ever-new  and  grow- 
ing delight  in  the  exalted  services  of  the  heavenly  sanctu- 
ary. They  shall  never  more  feel  the  least  touch  of  sorrow, 
pain,  or  any  kind  of  misery,  but  shall  be  as  happy  as  their 
nature  can  admit  through  an  immortal  duration.  What  a 
glorious  new  creation  is  here !  what  illustrious  creatures 
formed  of  the  dust !  And  shall  any  of  us  join  in  this 
liappy  company,  O  shall  any  of  us,  feeble,  dying,  sinful 
creatures,  share  in  their  glory  and  happiness  ?  This  is  a 
most  interesting  inquiry,  and  I  v/ould  have  you  think  of  it 
with  trembling  anxiety. 

The  prospect  would  be  delightful,  if  our  charity  could 
hope  that  this  wilt  be  the  happy  end  of  all  the  sons  of 
men.  But,  alas !  multitudes,  and  we  have  reason  to  fear 
the  far  greater  number,  shall  come  forth,  not  to  the  resur- 
rection of  life,  but  to  the  resurrection  of  damnation  !  What 
terror  is  in  the  sound  !  If  audacious  sinners  in  our  world 
make  light  of  it,  and  pray  for  it  on  every  trifling  occasion, 
their  infernal  brethren  that  feel  its  tremendous  import  are 
not  so  hardy,  but  tremble  and  groan,  and  can  trifle  with  it 
no  more. 

These  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment.  If  they 
might  be  released  from  pain,  though  it  were  by  annihila- 
tion, after  they  have  wept  away  ten  thousand  millions  of 
ages  in  extremity  of  pain,  it  would  be  some  mitigation, 
some  encouragement ;  but,  alas !  when  as  many  millions 
of  ages  are  passed  as  the  stars  of  heaven,  or  the  sand  on 
the  sea-shore,  or  the  atoms  of  dust  in  this  huge  globe  of 
earth,  their  punishment  is  as  far  from  an  end  as  when  the 
sentence  was  pronounced  upon  them.  For  ever  !  there  is 
no  exhausting  of  that  word ;  and  when  it  is  affixed  to  the 
highest  degree  of  miser}^,  the  terror  of  the  sound  is  utterly 
insupportable.     See,  sirs,  what  depends  upon  time,  that 

12* 


138  THE   GENERAL   RESURRECTION. 

span  of  time  wc  enjoy  in  this  fleeting  life.  Eternity  !  aw- 
ful, all-important  eternity  depend  upon  it.  All  this  while 
conscience  tears  the  sinner's  heart  with  the  most  torment- 
ing reflections.  ''  O  what  a  fair  opportunity  I  once  had 
for  salvation,  had  I  improved  it !  I  was  warned  of  the 
consequences  of  a  life  of  sin  and  carelessness  :  I  was  told 
of  the  necessity  of  faith,  repentance,  and  all  the  necessary 
means  of  salvation,  and  universal  holiness  of  heart  and 
life ;  but,  fool  that  I  was,  I  neglected  all,  I  abused  all ;  I 
refused  to  part  with  my  sins  ;  I  refused  to  engage  seriously 
in  religion,  and  to  seek  God  in  earnest ;  and  now  I  am  lost 
for  ever  without  hope.  O  !  for  one  of  those  months,  one 
of  those  weeks,  or  even  so  much  as  one  of  those  days  or 
hours  I  once  trifled  away;  with  what  earnestness,  with 
what  solicitude  would  I  improve  it !  But  all  my  oppor- 
tunities are  past  beyond  recovery,  and  not  a  moment  shall 
be  given  me  for  this  purpose  any  more.  O  what  a  fool 
was  I  to  sell  my  soul  for  such  trifles !  to  set  so  light  by 
heaven,  and  fall  into  hell  through  mere  neglect  and  care- 
lessness !"  Ye  impenitent,  unthinking  sinners,  though  you 
may  now  be  able  to  silence  or  drown  the  clamors  of  your 
consciences,  yet  the  time,  or  rather  the  dread  eternity  is 
coming,  when  they  will  speak  in  spite  of  you ;  when  they 
will  speak  home,  and  be  felt  by  the  most  hardened  and 
remorseless  heart.  Therefore  now  regard  their  warnings 
while  they  may  be  the  means  of  your  recovery.  You  and 
I,  my  brethren,  are  concerned  in  the  solemn  transactions 
of  the  day  I  have  been  describing.  You  and  I  shall  either 
be  changed  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  or 
while  mouldering  in  the  grave,  lue  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the 
Son  of  God,  and  corae  forth,  either  to  the  resurrection  of  life,  or 
to  the  resurrection  of  damnation.  And  which,  my  brethren, 
shall  be  our  doom  ?  Can  we  foreknow  it  at  this  distance 
of  time  ?  I  proposed  it  to  your  inquiry  alread}^,  whether 
you  have  any  good  reason  to  hope  you  shall  be  of  that 
happy  number  who  shall  rise  to  life  ?  and  now  I  propose  it 
again  with  this  counterpart.  Have  you  any  evidences  to 
hope  you  shall  not  be  of  that  wretched  numerous  multitude 
who  shall  arise  to  damnation?  If  there  be  an  inquiry 
within  the  compass  of  human  knowledge  that  demands 
your  solicitous  thoughts,  certainly  it  is  this.  Methinks 
♦  you  cannot  enjoy  one  moment's  ease  or  security  while  this 
is  undetermined.     And  is  it  an  answerable  inquiry  ?     Can 


THE  GENEEAL  EESURRECTION.  139 

we  know  wliat  arc  the  present  distinguishing  characters 
of  those  who  shall  then  receive  so  different  a  doom  ?  Yes, 
my  text  determines  the  point ;  for 

V.  They  that  have  done  good  shall  come  forth  to  the  resur- 
rection of  life,  and  they  th-at  have  done  evil  to  the  resurrection 
of  damnation.  These  are  the  grounds  of  the  distinction 
that  shall  then  be  made  in  the  final  states  of  men,  doing- 
good  and  doing  evil.  And  certainly  this  distinction  is 
perceivable  now ;  to  do  good  and  to  do  evil  are  not  so 
much  alike  as  that  it  should  be  impossible  to  distinguish 
between  them.  Let  us,  then,  see  what  is  implied  in  these 
characters,  and  to  whom  of  us  they  respectively  belong. 

1.  What  is  it  to  do  good  ?  This  implies,  1st,  An  honest 
endeavor  to  keep  all  God's  commandments ;  I  say,  all  his 
commandments,  with  regard  to  God,  our  neighbor,  and 
ourselves,  whether  agreeable  to  our  natural  constitution  or 
not,  whether  enjoining  the  performance  of  duty  or  forbid- 
ding the  commission  of  sin,  whether  regarding  the  heart 
or  the  outward  practice.  I  say  a  uniform  impartial  re- 
gard to  all  God's  commandments,  of  whatever  kind,  in  all 
circumstances,  and  at  all  times,  is  implied  in  doing  good ; 
for  if  we  do  any  thing  because  God'  commands  it,  we  will 
endeavor  to  do  every  thing  that  he  commands,  because 
where  the  reason  of  our  conduct  is  the  same,  our  conduct 
itself  will  be  the  same.  I  do  not  mean  that  good  men  in 
the  present  state  perfectly  keep  the  commandments  of  God 
in  every  thing,  or  indeed  in  any  thing ;  but  I  mean  that 
universal  obedience  is  their  honest  endeavor.  Their  char- 
acter is  in  some  measure  uniform  and  all  of  a  piece ;  that  is, 
they  do  not  place  all  their  religion  in  obedience  to  some 
commands  which  may  be  agreeable  to  them,  as  though 
that  would  make  atonement  for  their  neglect  of  others; 
but,  like  David,  they  are  for  having  a  respect,  and,  indeed, 
have  a  respect  to  all  God's  commandments.  My  brethren, 
try  yourselves  by  this  test, 

2d.  To  do  good  in  an  acceptable  manner  presupposes  a 
change  of  nature  and  a  new  principle.  Our  nature  is  so 
corrupted  that  nothing  really  and  formerly  good  can  be 
performed  by  us  till  it  be  renewed.  To  confirm  this  I  shall 
only  refer  you  to  Eph.  ii.  10,  and  Ezek.  xxx.  26,  27, 
where  being  created  in  Christ  Jesus  to  good  works,  and 
receiving  a  new  heart  of  flesh,  are  mentioned  as  prerequi- 
site to  our  walking  in  God's  statutes.     As  for  the  principle 


140  THE   GENERAL   KESURRECTION. 

of  obedience,  it  is  the  love  of  God:  tliat  is,  we  must  obey 
God  because  we  love  him ;  we  must  do  good  because  we 
deliglit  to  do  good ;  otherwise  it  is  all  hypocrisy,  constraint, 
or  selfishness,  and  cannot  be  acceptable  to  God.  Here 
again,  my  brethren,  look  into  your  hearts  and  examine 
what  is  the  principle  of  your  obedience,  and  whether  ever 
you  have  been  made  new  creatures. 

3d.  I  must  add,  especially  as  we  live  under  the  gospel, 
that  your  dependence  for  life  must  not  be  upon  the  good  you 
do,  but  entirely  upon  the  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ. 
After  you  have  done  all,  you  must  acknowledge  you  are 
but  unprofitable  servants,  and  renounce  all  your  works 
in  point  of  merit,  while  you  abound  in  them  in  point  of 
practice.  This  is  an  essential  characteristic  of  evangelical 
obedience,  and  whether  ever  you  have  been  made  new 
creatures. 

I  might  enlarge  upon  this  head,  but  time  will  not  permit ; 
and  I  hope  these  three  characteristics  may  suffice  to  show 
you  what  is  implied  in  doing  good.  Let  us  now  proceed 
to  the  opposite  character. 

2.  What  is  it  to  do  evil?  This  implies  such  things  as 
these :  tlie  habitual  neglect  of  well-doing,  or  the  perform- 
ance of  duties  in  a  languid,  formal  manner,  or  without  a 
right  principle,  and  the  willful  indulgence  of  any  one  sin; 
the  secret  love  of  sin,  though  not  suffered  to  break  forth 
into  the  outward  practice.  Here  it  is  evident  at  first  sight  that 
profane  sinners,  drunkards,  swearers,  defrauders,  avowed 
neglecters  of  religion,  &c.,  have  this  dismal  brand  upon  them, 
that  they  are  such  as  do  evil.  Nay,  all  such  who  are  in  their 
natural  state,  without  regeneration,  whatever  their  outside 
may  be,  must  be  ranked  in  this  class ;  for  that  which  is  born 
of  the  flesh  is  flesh,  (John,  iii.  6,)  and  they  that  are  in  the 
flesh  cannot  please  God,  nor  be  rightly  subject  to  his  law. 
(Rom.  viii.  7,  8.)  And  now  who  is  for  life,  and  who  for 
damnation  among  you?  These  characters  are  intended 
to  make  the  distinction  among  you,  and  I  pray  you  apply 
them  for  that  purpose. 

As  for  such  of  you,  who,  amidst  all  your  lamented  infir- 
mities, are  endeavoring  honestly  to  do  good,  and  grieved 
at  heart  that  you  can  do  no  more,  you  also  must  die,  you 
must  die,  and  feed  the  -worms  in  the  dust.  But  you  shall 
rise  gloriously  improved,  rise  to  an  immortal  life,  and  in 
all  the  terrors  and  consternation  of  tha  tlast  day  you  will 


THE  GENERAL  RESURRECTION".  141 

be  secure,  serene,  and  undisturbed.  The  Almigbty  Judge 
will  be  your  friend,  and  that  is  enough.  Let  this  thought 
disarm  the  king  of  terrors,  and  give  you  courage  to  look 
down  into  the  grave,  aud  forward  to  the  great  rising  day. 
0  what  a  happy  immortality  opens  its  glorious  prospects 
beyond  the  ken  of  sight  before  you !  and  after  a  few  strug- 
gles more  in  this  state  of  warfare,  and  resting  awhile  in  the 
bed  of  death,  at  the  regions  of  eternal  blessedness  you  will 
arrive,  and  take  up  your  residence  there  for  ever. 

But  are  there  not  some  here  who  are  conscious  that  these 
favorable  characters  do  not  belong  to  them?  that  know 
that  well-doing  is  not  the  business  of  their  life,  but  that 
they  are  workers  of  iniquity  ?  I  tell  you  plainly  and  with 
all  the  authority  the  word  of  God  can  give,  that  if  you 
continue  such,  you  shall  rise  to  damnation.  That  will  un- 
doubtedly be  your  doom,  unless  you  are  greatly  changed 
and  reformed  in  heart  and  life.  And  will  this  be  no  ex- 
citement to  vigorous  endeavors  ?  Are  you  proof  against 
the  energy  of  such  considerations  ?  Ye  careless  sinners, 
awake  out  of  your  security,  and  prepare  for  death  and 
judgment !  this  fleeting  life  is  all  the  time  you  have  for 
preparation,  and  can  you  trifle  it  away  ?  Your  all,  your 
eternal  all  is  set  upon  the  single  cast  of  life,  and  you  must 
stand  the  hazard  of  the  die.  You  can  make  but  one  ex- 
periment, and  if  that  fail,  through  your  sloth  or  misman- 
agement, you  are  irrecoverably  undone  for  ever.  There- 
fore by  the  dread  authority  of  the  great  God,  by  the  ter- 
rors of  death  and  the  great  rising  day,  by  the  joys  of 
heaven  and  the  torments  of  hell,  and  by  the  value  of  your 
immortal  souls,  I  entreat,  I  charge,  I  adjure  you  to  awake 
out  of  your  security,  and  improve  the  precious  moments 
of  life.  The  world  is  dying  all  around  you.  And  can 
you  rest  easy  in  such  a  world,  while  unprepared  for  eternity? 
Awake  to  righteousness  now,  at  the  general  call  of  the 
gospel,  before  the  last  trumpet  give  you  an  alarm  of  an- 
other kind. 


142  THE   UNIVERSAL  JUDGMENT. 


XIV. 

THE  UMYERSAL  JUDGMENT. 

"  And  the  times  of  this  ignorance  God  winked  at ;  but  now  commandeth  all 
men  everywhere  to  repent :  because  he  hath  appointed  a  day,  in  the  which  he 
will  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  by  that  man  whom  he  hath  ordained  ; 
whereof  he  hath  given  assurance  unto  all  men,  in  that  he  hath  raised  him 
from  the  dead." — Acts,  xvii.  30,  31. 

The  present  state  is  the  infancy  of  human  nature ;  and 
all  the  events  of  time,  even  those  that  make  such  noise, 
and  determine  the  fate  of  kingdoms,  are  but  the  little 
affairs  of  children.  But  if  we  look  forward  and  trace 
human  nature  to  maturity,  we  meet  with  events  vast,  inter- 
esting, and  majestic,  and  such  as  nothing  but  divine  au- 
thority can  render  credible  to  us  who  are  so  apt  to  judge 
of  things  by  what  we  see.  To  one  of  those  scenes  I  would 
direct  your  attention  this  day ;  I  mean  the  solemn,  tremen- 
dous, and  glorious  scene  of  the  universal  judgment. 

You  have  sometimes  seen  a  stately  building  in  ruins ; 
come  now  and  view  the  ruins  of  a  demolished  world. 
You  have  often  seen  a  feeble  mortal  struggling  in  the  ago- 
nies of  death,  and  his  shattered  frame  dissolved;  come 
now  and  view  universal  nature  severely  laboring  and 
agonizing  in  her  last  convulsions,  and  her  well-compacted 
system  dissolved.  You  have  heard  of  earthquakes  here 
and  there  that  laid  Lisbon,  Palermo,  and  a  few  other  cities 
in  ruins ;  come  now  and  feel  the  tremors  and  convulsions 
of  the  whole  globe,  that  blend  cities  and  countries,  oceans 
and  continents,  mountains,  plains,  and  valleys  in  one  pro- 
miscuous heap.  You  have  a  thousand  times  beheld  the 
moon  walking  in  brightness,  and  the  sun  shining  in  his 
strength  ;  now  look  and  see  the  sun  turned  into  darkness, 
and  the  moon  into  blood. 

It  is  our  lot  to  live  in  an  age  of  confusion,  blood,  and 
slaughter ;  an  age  in  which  our  attention  is  engaged  by  the 
clash  of  arms,  the  clangor  of  trumpets,  the  roar  of  artillery, 
and  the  dubious  fate  of  kingdoms ;    but  draw  off  your 


THE   UNIVERSAL  JUDGMENT.  143 

tliougtits  from  these  objects  for  an  hour,  and  fix  them  on 
objects  more  solemn  and  interesting  :  come  view 

"  A  scene  that  yields 
A  louder  trumpet,  and  more  dreadful  fields ; 
The  world  alarm'd,  both  Earth  and  Heaven  o'erthrown, 
And  gasping  Nature's  last  tremendous  groan  : 
Death's  ancient  sceptre  broke,  the  teeming  Tomb, 
The  righteous  Judge,  and  man's  eternal  doom." — Young. 

Such  a  scene  there  certainly  is  before  us ;  for  St.  Paul 
tells  us,  that  God  hath  given  assurance  to  all  men  he  shall 
judge  the  world  in  righteousness  hy  that  Man  luhom  he  hath 
ordained;  and  that  his  resurrection,  the  resurrection  of 
him  who  is  God  and  man,  is  a  demonstrative  proof  of  it. 

My  text  is  the  conclusion  of  St.  Paul's  defence  or  ser- 
mon before  the  famous  court  of  Areopagus,  in  the  learned 
and  philosophical  city  of  Athens.  In  this  august  and 
polite  assembly  he  speaks  with  the  boldness,  and  in  the 
evangelical  strain,  of  an  apostle  of  Christ.  He  first  incul- 
cates upon  them  the  great  truths  of  natural  religion,  and 
labors  faithfully,  though  in  a  very  gentle  and  inoffensive 
manner,  to  reform  them  from  that  stupid  idolatry  and  su- 
perstition into  which  even  this  learned  and  philosophical 
city  was  sunk,  though  a  Socrates,  a  Plato,  and  the  most 
celebrated  sages  and  moralists  of  pagan  antiquity  had  lived 
and  taught  in  it.  Afterwards,  in  the  close  of  his  discourse, 
he  introduces  the  glorious  peculiarities  of  Christianity,  par- 
ticularly the  duty  of  repentance,  from  evangelical  motives, 
the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the  final  judgment. 

In  these  dark  times  of  ignorance  which  preceded  the 
publication  of  the  gospel,  God  seemed  to  wink  or  connive 
at  the  idolatry  and  various  forms  of  wickedness  that  had 
overspread  the  world ;  that  is,  he  seemed  to  overlook,  or 
take  no  notice  of  them,  so  as  either  to  punish  them,  or  to 
give  the  nations  explicit  calls  to  repentance.  But  now, 
says  St.  Paul,  the  case  is  altered.  Now  the  gospel  is  pub- 
lished through  the  world,  and  God  therefore  will  no  longer 
seem  to  connive  at  the  wickedness  and  impenitence  of 
mankind,  but  publishes  his  great  mandate  to  a  rebel  world, 
explicitly  and  loudly  commanding  all  men  everywhere  to 
repent ;  and  he  now  gives  them  particular  motives  and  en- 
couragements to  this  duty. 

One  motive  of  the  greatest  weight,  which  was  never  so 
clearly  or  extensively  published  before,  is  the  doctrine  of 


144  THE   UNIVERSAL  JUDGMENT. 

the  "universal  judgment.  And  surely  the  prospect  of  a 
judgment  must  be  a  strong  motive  to  sinners  to  repent: — 
this,  if  any  thing,  will  rouse  them  from  their  thoughtless 
security,  and  bring  them  to  repentance. 

God  has  given  assurance  to  all  men  ;  that  is,  to  all  that 
hear  the  gospel,  that  he  has  appointed  a  day  for  this  great 
purpose,  and  that  Jesus  Christ,  God-man,  is  to  preside  in 
person  in  this  majestic  solemnity.  He  has  given  assurance 
of  this ;  that  is  sufficient  ground  of  faith  ;  and  the  assur- 
ance consists  in  this,  that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead. 

The  resurrection  of  Christ  gives  assurance  of  this  in  sev- 
eral respects.  It  is  a  specimen  and  a  pledge  of  a  general 
resurrection,  that  grand  preparative  for  the  judgment :  it 
is  also  an  authentic  attestation  of  our  Lord's  claims,  and  an 
incontestable  proof  of  his  divine  mission ;  for  God  will 
never  work  so  unprecedented  a  miracle  in  favor  of  an  im- 
postor ;  and  he  expressly  claimed  the  authority  of  supreme 
Judge  as  delegated  to  him  by  the  Father ;  the  Father  judg- 
eth  no  man,  hut  hath  committed  all  judgment  to  the  Son. 

Let  us  now  enter  upon  the  majestic  scene.  But,  alas ! 
what  images  shall  I  use  to  represent  it  ?  Nothing  that  we 
have  seen,  nothing  that  we  have  heard,  nothing  that  has 
ever  happened  on  the  stage  of  time,  can  furnish  us  with 
proper  illustrations.  All  is  low  and  groveling,  all  is  faint 
and  obscene  that  ever  the  sun  shone  upon,  when  compared 
with  the  grand  phenomena  of  that  day  ;  and  we  are  so  ac- 
customed to  low  and  little  objects,  that  it  is  impossible  we 
should  ever  raise  our  thoughts  to  a  suitable  pitch  of  eleva- 
tion. Ere  long  we  shall  be  amazed  spectators  of  these  ma- 
jestic wonders,  and  our  eyes  and  our  ears  will  be  our  in- 
structors. But  now  it  is  necessary  we  should  have  such 
ideas  of  them  as  may  affect  our  hearts,  and  prepare  us  for 
them.  Let  us  therefore  present  to  our  view  those  repre- 
sentations which  divine  revelation,  our  only  guide  in  this 
case,  gives  us  of  the  person  of  the  Judge,  and  the  manner 
of  his  appearance  ;  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the 
transformation  of  the  living ;  of  the  universal  convention 
of  all  the  sons  of  men  before  the  supreme  tribunal ;  of  their 
separation  to  the  right  and  left  hand  of  the  Judge,  accord- 
ing to  their  characters;  of  the  judicial  process  itself;  of 
the  decisive  sentence ;  of  its  execution,  and  of  the  confla- 
gration of  the  world. 

As  to  the  person  of  the  Judge,  the  psalmist  tells  you, 


THE    UNIVERSAL   JUDGMENT.        ^  145 

God  is  judge  himself.  Yet  Christ  tells  us,  the  Father 
judgeth  no  raan,  hut  hath  conimitted  all  judgment  to  the  Son  ; 
and  that  he  hath  given  him  authority  to  execute  judgment,  he- 
cause  he  is  the  Son  of  man.  It  is,  therefore,  Christ  Jesus, 
God-man,  as  I  observed,  who  shall  sustain  this  high  char- 
acter; and,  for  reasons  already  alleged,  it  is  most  fit  it 
should  be  devolved  upon  him.  Being  God  and  man,  all 
the  advantages  of  divinity  and  humanity  centre  in  him, 
and  render  him  more  fit  for  this  ofiice  than  if  he  were  God 
only,  or  man  only.  This  is  the  august  Judge  before  whom 
we  must  stand ;  and  the  prospect  may  inspire  us  with 
reverence,  joy,  and  terror. 

As  to  the  manner  of  his  appearance,  it  will  be  such  as 
becomes  the  dignity  of  his  person  and  office.  He  will 
shine  in  all  the  uncreated  glories  of  the  Godhead,  and  in 
all  the  gentler  glories  of  a  perfect  man.  His  attendants 
will  add  a  dignity  to  the  grand  appearance,  and  the  sym- 
j^athy  of  nature  will  increase  the  solemnity  and  terror  of 
the  day.  Let  his  own  word  describe  him.  The  Son  of 
man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  in  the  glory  of  his  Father, 
and  all  the  holy  angels  ivith  him  ;  and  then  shall  he  sit  upon 
the  throne  of  his  glory.  The  Lord  Jesus  shall  he  revealed  from 
heaven  with  his  mighty  angels  in  jiaming  fire,  taking  vengeance 
on  them  that  know  not  God,  and  that  ohey  not  the  gospel  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

This  is  the  Judge  before  whom  we  must  stand ;  and  this 
is  the  manner  of  his  appearance.  Is  this  the  supposed  son 
of  the  carpenter,  the  desiDised  Galilean?  Is  this  the  man 
of  sorrows  ?  Is  this  he  that  was  arrested,  condemned,  was 
buffeted,  was  spit  upon,  was  crowned  with  thorns,  was 
executed  as  a  slave  and  a  criminal  upon  the  cross  ?  Yes, 
it  is  he ;  the  very  same  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  But  0  how 
changed !  how  deservedly  exalted !  Let  heaven  and  earth 
congratul-ate  his  advancement. 

While  the  Judge  is  descending,  the  parties  to  be  judged 
will  be  summoned  to  appear.  But  where  are  they?  The}^ 
are  all  asleep  in  their  dusty  beds,  except  the  then  genera- 
tion. And  how  shall  they  be  roused  from  their  long  sleep 
of  thousands  of  years  ?  Why,  the  Lord  himself  shall  de- 
scend from  heaven  toith  a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the  arch- 
angel, and  with  the  trump)  of  God.  The  trumpet  shcdl  sound, 
and  they  that  are  then  alive  shall  not  pass  into  eternity 
through  the  beaten  road  of  death,  but  at  tlie  last  trumpet 

J3 


146  THE   UNIVERSAL  JUDGMENT. 

they  shall  he  changed,  changed  into  immortals,  in  a  raoment, 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  ISTow  all  the  millions  of  man- 
kind, of  whatever  country  and  nation*  whether  they  ex- 
pect this  tremendous  day  or  not,  all  feel  a  shock  through 
their  whole  frames,  while  they  are  instantaneously  meta- 
morphosed in  every  limb,  and  the  pulse  of  immortality 
begins  to  beat  in  every  part.  Now,  also,  the  slumberers 
under  ground  begin  to  stir,  to  rouse  and  spring  to  life. 
Now  see  graves  opening,  tombs  bursting,  charnel-houses 
rattling,  the  earth  heaving  and  all  alive,  while  these  sub- 
terranean armies  are  bursting  their  way  through.  What 
vast  multitudes  that  had  slept  in  a  watery  grave,  now 
emerge  from  rivers,  and  seas,  and  oceans,  and  throw  them 
into  a  tumult !  The  dead,  small  and  great,  mill  arise  to  stand 
before  God,  and  the  sea  shall  give  up  the  dead  luJiich  ivere  in  it. 
Now  the  Judge  is  come,  the  judgment-seat  is  erected, 
the  dead  are  raised.  And  what  follows  ?  Why,  the  uni- 
versal convention  of  all  the  sons  of  men  befgre  the  judg- 
ment-seat. What  an  august  convocation,  what  a  vast 
assembly  is  this  I  Now  all  the  sons  of  men  meet  in  one 
vast  assembly.  Adam  beholds  the  long  line  of  his  pos- 
terity, and  they  behold  their  common  father.  Now  Euro- 
peans and  Asiatics,  the  swarthy  sons  of  Africa  and  the 
savages  of  America,  mingle  together.  Christians,  Jews, 
Mahometans,  and  Pagans,  the  learned  and  the  ignorant, 
kings  and  subjects,  rich  and  poor,  free  and  bond,  form  one 
promiscuous  crowd.  The  extensive  region  of  the  air  is 
very  properly  chosen  as  the  place  of  judgment ;  for  this 
globe  would  not  be  sufficient  for  such  a  multitude  to  stand 
upon.  In  that  prodigious  assembly,  my  brethren,  you  and 
I  must  mingle.^  And  we  shall  not  be  lost  in  the  crowd, 
nor  escape  the  notice  of  our  Judge ;  but  his  eye  will  be  as 
particularly  fixed  on  every  one  as  though  there  were  but 
one  before  him.  Now  the  Judge  is  seated,  and  anxious 
millions  stand  before  him  waiting  for  their  doom.  As  yet 
there  is  no  separation  made  between  them ;  but  men  and 
devils,  saints  and  sinners,  are  promiscuously  blended  to- 
gether. But  see !  at  the  order  of  the  Judge,  the  crowd  is; 
all  in  motion ;  they  part,  they  sort  together  according  to 
their  character,  and  divide  to  the  right  and  left.  Wlien 
all  nations  are  gathered  before  the  Son  of  man,  himself  has 
told  us,  he  shall  separate  them  one  from  another,  as  a  shepherd 
divideth  his  slieep  from  the  goafs  ;  and  he  shall  set  the  sheej)  on 


THE   UNIVERSAL   JUDGMENT.  147 

Ms  right  hand,  hut  the  goats  on  the  left.  And,  0 !  what 
strange  separations  are  now  made !  What  multitudes  that 
once  ranked  among,  the  saints,  and  were  highly  esteemed 
for  their  piety  by  others  as  well  as  themselves,  are  now 
banished  from  among  them,  and  placed  with  the  trembling 
criminals  upon  the  left  hand !  and  how  many  poor,  honest- 
hearted,  desponding  souls,  whose  foreboding  fears  had  often 
placed  them  there,  now  find  themselves,  to  their  agreeable 
surprise,  stationed  on  the  right  hand  of  their  Judge,  who 
smiles  upon  them !  What  connections  are  now  broken  ! 
what  hearts  torn  asunder !  what  intimate  companions, 
what  dear  relations,  parted  for  ever !  neighbor  from  neigh- 
bor, masters  from  servants,  friend  from  friend,  parents 
from  children,  husband  from  wife.  Those  that  lived  in  the 
same  country,  who  sustained  the  same  denomination,  who 
worshiped  in  the  same  place,  who  lived  under  one  roof, 
must  now  part  for  ever.  And  is  there  no  separation  likely 
to  be  made  then  in  our  families  or  in  our  congi^egations  ? 
Is  it  likely  we  shall  all  be  placed  in  a  body  upon  the  right 
hand  ?  Are  all  the  members  of  our  families  prepared  for 
that  glorious  station  ?  Alas  !  are  there  not  some  families 
among  us,  who,  it  is  to  be  feared,  shall  all  be  sent  off  to 
the  left  hand,  without  so  much  as  one  exception  ?  for  who 
are  those  miserable  multitudes  on  the  left  hand  ?  There, 
through  the  medium  of  revelation,  I  see  the  drunkard,  the 
swearer,  the  whoremonger,  the  liar,  the  defrauder,  and  the 
various  classes  of  profane  profligate  sinners.  There  I  see 
the  families  that  call  not  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  whole 
nations  that  forget  him.  And,  0 !  what  vast  multitudes, 
what  millions  of  millions  of  millions  do  all  these  make ! 
And  do  not  some,  alas !  do  not  many  of  you  belong  to  one  or 
the  other  of  these  classes  of  sinners,  whom  God,  and  Christ, 
and  Scripture,  and  conscience  conspire  to  condemn  ?  If  so, 
to  the  left  hand  you  must  depart,  among  devils  and  trem- 
bling criminals,  whose  gnilty  minds  forebode  their  doom 
before  the  judicial  process  begins.  But  who  are  those 
glorious  immortals  on  the  right  hand?  They  are  those 
who  now  mourn  over  their  sins,  resist  and  forsake  them ; 
they  are  those  who  have  surrendered  themselves  entirely 
to  God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  who  have  heartily  complied 
with  the  method  of  salvation  revealed  in  the  gospel ;  who 
have  been  formed  new  creatures -by  the  almighty  power  of 
God ;  who  make  it  the  most  earnest,  persevering  endeavor 


148  THE    UNIVEESAL   JUDGMENT. 

of  tlieir  lives  to  work  out  their  own  salvation,  and  to  live 
righteously,  soberly,  and  godly  in  the  world.  These  are 
some  of  the  principal  lineaments  of  their  character  who 
shall  have  their  safe  and  honorable  station  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  Sovereign  Judge.  And  is  not  this  the  prevail- 
ing character  of  some  of  you  ?  I  hope  and  believe  it  is. 
Through  the  medium  of  Scripture-revelation,  then,  I  see 
you  in  that  blessed  station.  And,  O !  I  would  make  an 
appointment  with  you  this  day  to  meet  you  there.  Yes, 
■let  me  this  day  appoint  the  time  and  place  where  we  shall 
meet  after  the  separation  and  dispersion  that  death  will 
juake  among  us ;  and  let  it  be  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
Judge  at  the  last  day.  If  I  be  so  happy  as  to  obtain  some 
humble  place  there,  I  shall  look  out  for  you,  my  dear  peo- 
ple. There  I  shall  expect  your  company,  that  we  may 
ascend  together  to  join  in  the  more  exalted  services  and 
enjoyments  of  heaven,  as  we  have  frequently  in  the  hum- 
bler forms  of  worship  in  the  church  on  earth.  But,  O ! 
when  I  think  what  unexpected  separations  will  then  be 
made,  I  tremble  lest  I  should  miss  some  of  you  there. 
And  are  you  not  afraid  lest  you  should  miss  some  of  your 
friends,  or  some  of  your  families  there  ?  or  that  you  shouhl 
there  see  them  move  off  to  the  left  hand,  and  looking  back 
with  eagerness  upon  you  as  if  they  would  say,  "this  is  my 
doom  through  your  carelessness ;  had  you  but  acted  a  faith- 
ful part  towards  me,  while  conversant  with  you  or  under 
your  care,  I  might  now  have  had  my  place  among  the 
saints."  O!  how  could  you  bear  such  significant  piercing- 
looks,  from  a  child,  a  servant,  or  a  friend?  Therefore, 
now  do  all  in  your  power  to  convert  sinners  from  the  error 
of  their  way,  and  to  save  their  souls  from  death. 

When  we  entered  upon  this  practical  digression,  we  left 
all  things  ready  for  the  judicial  process.  And  now  the 
trial  begins.  Now  Ood  judges  the  secrets  of  men  hy  Jesus 
Christ.  All  the  works  of  all  the  sons  of  men  will  then  be 
tried ;  for,  says  St.  Paul,  lue  must  all  appear  before  the  judg- 
ment-seai  of  Christ,  that  every  man  may  receive  the  things 
done  in  the  body  according  to  what  he  hath  done,  luhether  it  be 
good  or  lohether  it  be  evil. 

What  strange  discoveries  will  this  trial  make;  what 
noble  dispositions,  that  never  shone  in  full  beauty  to  mortal 
eyes ;  what  pious  and  noble  actions  concealed  under  the 
veil  of  modesty ;  what  aifectionate  aspirations,  what  devout 


THE    UNIVERSAL   JUDGMENT.  149 

exercises  of  heart,  wliich  lay  open  only  to  the  eyes  of 
Omniscience,  are  now  brought  to  fall  light,  and  receive  the 
approbation  of  the  supreme  Judge  before  the  assembled 
universe!  But,  on  the  other  hand,  what  works  of  shame 
and  darkness,  what  hidden  things  of  dishonesty,  what  dire 
secrets  of  treachery,  hypocrisy,  lewdness,  and  various 
forms  of  wickedness,  artfully  and  industriously  concealed 
from  human  sight,  what  horrid  exploits  of  sin  now  burst 
to  light  in  all  their  hellish  colors,  to  the  confusion  of  the 
guilty,  and  the  astonishment  and  horror  of  the  universe ! 
Sure,  the  history  of  mankind  must  then  appear  like  the 
annals  of  hell,  or  the  biography  of  devils!  Iliere  the 
mark  of  dissimulation  will  be  torn  off'  Clouded  characters 
will  clear  up,  and  men  as  well  as  things  will  appear  in 
their  true  light.  And  may  not  the  prospect  of  such  a  dis- 
covery fill  some  of  you  with  horror?  for  many  of  your 
actions,  and  especially  of  your  hearts,  will  not  bear  the 
light.  How  would  it  confound  you,  if  they  were  now  all 
published,  even  in  the  small  circle  of  your  acquaintance? 
How,  then,  can  you  bear  to  have  them  all  fully  exposed 
before  God,  angels,  and  men ! 

We  are  now  come  to  the  grand  crisis,  upon  which  the 
eternal  states  of  all  mankind  turn;  I  mean,  the  passing  the 
great  decisive  sentence.  Heaven  and  earth  are  all  silence 
and  attention,  while  the  Judge,  with  smiles  in  his  face,  and 
a  voice  sweeter  than  heavenly  music,  turns  to  the  glorious 
company  on  his  right  hand,  and  pours  all  the  joys  of  heaven 
into  their  souls,  in  that  transporting  sentence,  of  which  he 
has  graciously  left  us  a  copy,  Oome,  ye  Messed  of  my  Father, 
inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of 
the  loorld.  Every  word  is  full  of  emphasis,  full  of  heaven, 
and  exactly  agreeable  to  the  desires  of  those  to  whom  it  is 
addressed.  They  desired,  and  longed,  and  languished  to  be 
near  their  Lord ;  and  now  their  Lord  invites  them.  Come 
near  me,  and  dwell  with  me  for  ever.  There  was  nothing 
the}''  desired  so  much  as  the  blessing  of  God,  nothing  they 
feared  so  much  as  his  curse,  and  now  their  fears  are  entirely 
removed,  and  their  designs  fully  accomplished,  for  the  su- 
preme Judge  pronounces  them  blessed  of  his  Father.  They 
were  all  poor  in  spirit,  and  most  of  them  poor  in  this  world, 
and  all  sensible  of  their  unworthiness.  How  agreeably, 
then,  are  they  surprised,  to  hear  themselves  invited  to  a 
kingdom,  invited  to  inherit  a  kingdom,  as  princes  of  the 

13* 


150  THE    UNIVERSAL  JUDGMENT. 

blood-royal  born  to  thrones  and  crowns !  How  will  they  be 
lost  in  wonder,  joy,  and  praise  to  find  that  the  great  God  en- 
tertained thoughts  of  love  towards  them,  before  they  had 
a  being,  or  the  world  in  which  they  dwelt  had  its  founda- 
tion laid,  and  that  he  was  preparing  a  kingdom  for  them 
while  they  were  nothing,  unknown  even  in  idea,  except  to 
himself!  0  !  brethren,  dare  any  of  us  expect  this  sentence 
will  be  passed  upon  us  ?  Methinks  the  very  thought  over- 
whelms us.  Methinks  our  feeble  frames  must  be  unable 
to  bear  up  under  the  ecstatic  hope  of  so  sweetly  oppressive 
a  blessedness.  O  !  if  this  be  our  sentence  in  that  day,  it  is 
no  matter  what  we  suffer  in  the  intermediate  space ;  that 
sentence  would  compensate  for  all,  and  annihilate  the  suffer- 
ings of  ten  thousand  years. 

But  hark  !  another  sentence  breaks  from  the  mouth  of 
the  angry  Judge,  like  vengeful  thunder.  Nature  gives  a 
deep  tremendous  groan ;  the  heavens  lower  and  gather 
blackness,  the  earth  trembles,  and  guilty  millions  sink  with 
horror  at  the  sound !  And  see,  he  whose  words  are  works, 
whose  fiat  produced  worlds  out  of  nothing ;  he  who  could 
remand  ten  thousand  worlds  into  nothing  at  a  frown  ;  he 
whose  thunder  quelled  the  insurrection  of  rebel  angels  in 
heaven,  and  hurled  them  headlong  down,  down,  down  to 
the  dungeon  of  hell ;  see,  he  turns  to  the  guilty  crowd  on 
his  left  hand ;  his  countenance  discovers  the  righteous  in- 
dignation that  glows  in  his  breast.  His  countenance  be- 
speaks him  inexorable,  that  there  is  now  no  room  for 
prayer  and  tears.  Now  the  sweet,  mild,  mediatorial  hour 
is  past,  and  nothing  appears  but  the  majesty  and  terror  of 
the  Judge.  Horror  and  darkness  frown  upon  his  brow, 
and  vindictive  lightnings  flash  from  his  eyes.  And  now, 
(0  !  who  can  bear  the  sound !)  he  speaks.  Depart  from  me  ye 
cursed  into  everlasting  jire  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels. 
O !  the  cutting  emphasis  of  every  word !  Depart !  depart 
from  me ;  from  Me,  the  Author  of  all  good,  the  fountain  of 
all  happiness.  Depart,  with  all  my  heavy,  all-consuming 
curse  upon  you.  Depart  into  fire,  into  everlasting  fire, 
prepared,  furnished  with  fuel,  and  blown  up  into  rage, 
prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels,  once  your  compan- 
ions in  sin,  and  now  the  companions  and  executioners  of 
your  punishment. 

Now  the  grand  period  is  arrived  in  which  the  final 
everlasting   states   of  mankind  arc  unchangeably  settled. 


THE    UNIVERSAL  JUDGMENT,  151 

From  this  all-important  era  their  happiness  or  misery  runs 
on  in  one  uniform,  uninterrupted  tenor;  no  change,  no 
gradation,  but  from  glory  to  glory,  in  the  scale  of  perfec- 
tion, or  from  gulf  to  gulf  in  hell.  This  is  the  day  in  which 
all  the  schemes  of  Providence,  carried  on  for  thousands  of 
years,  terminate. 

"  Great  day  ?  for  which  all  other  days  were  made : 
For  which  earth  rose  from  chaos  ;  man  from  earth ; 
And  an  eternity,  the  date  of  gods, 
Descended  on  poor  earth-created  man  !" — Young, 

Time  was,  but  is  no  more !  Now  all  the  sons  of  men 
enter  upon  a  duration  not  to  be  measured  by  the  revolu- 
tions of  the  sun,  nor  by  days,  and  months,  and  years. 
Now  eternity  dawns,  a  day  that  shall  never  see  an  evening. 
And  this  terrible  illustrious  morning  is  solemnized  with 
the  execution  of  the  sentence.  No  sooner  is  it  passed 
than  immediately  the  wicked  go  away  into  everlasting  pun- 
ishtnent,  hut  the  righteous  into  life  eternal.  See  the  astonished 
thunderstruck  multitude  on  the  left  hand,  with  sullen 
horror,  and  grief,  and  despair  in  their  looks,  and  crying 
and  wringing  their  hands,  and  glancing  a  wishful  eye  to- 
wards that  heaven  which  they  lost;  and  now  an  eternal 
larewell  to  earth  and  all  its  enjoyments !  Farewell  to  the 
cheerful  light  of  heaven!  Farewell  to  hope,  that  sweet 
relief  of  affliction! 

"  Farewell,  happy  fields, 

Where  joy  for  ever  dwells  !  Hail,  horrors  !  hail^ 
Infernal  world  !  and  thou  profoundest  hell, 
Receive  thy  new  possessors !" — Milton. 

"Heaven  frowns  them  from  above,  the  horrors  of  hell 
spread  far  and  wide  around  them,  and  conscience  within 
preys  upon  their  hearts.  Conscience !  O  thou  abused, 
exasperated  power,  that  now  sleepest  in  so  many  breasts, 
what  severe,  ample  revenge  wilt  thou  then  take  upon 
those  that  now  dare  to  do  thee  violence!  O  the  dire 
reflections  which  memory  will  then  suggest!  the  remem- 
brance of  mercies  abused !  of  a  Saviour  slighted  !  of  means 
and  opportunities  of  salvation  neglected  and  lost !  this  re^ 
membrance  will  sting  the  heart  like  a  scorpion.  But  O 
eternity  !  eternity  !  with  what  horror  will  thy  name  circu- 
late througli  the  vaults  of  hell!  eternity  in  misery !  no  end  to 
pain !  no  hope  of  an  end !  0  this  is  the  hell  of  hell !  this  is  the 


152  THE    UNIVERSAL   JUDGMENT. 

parent  of  despair !  despair  the  direst  ingredient  of  misery, 
the  most  tormenting  passion  which  devils  feel.  But  let  us 
view  a  more  delightful  and  illustrious  scene.  See  the 
bright  and  triumphant  army  marching  up  to  their  eternal 
home,  under  the  conduct  of  the  Captain  of  their  salvation, 
where  they  shall  ever  be  tuith  the  Lord,  as  happy  as  their 
nature  in  its  highest  improvement  is  capable  of  being 
made,  with  what  shouts  of  jo}^  and  triumph  do  they  ascend ! 
with  what  sublime  hallelujahs  do  they  crown  their  De- 
liverer !  with  what  wonder  and  joy,  with  what  pleasing 
horror,  like  one  that  has  narrowly  escaped  some  tremen- 
dous precipice,  do  they  look  back  upon  what  they  once 
were !  once  mean,  guilty,  depraved,  condemned  sinners ! 
afterwards  imperfect,  broken-hearted,  sighing,  weeping 
saints !  but  now  innocent,  holy,  happy,  glorious  immortals  I 

"  Are  these  the  forms  that  moulder' J  ia  the  dust  ? 
O  the  transcendent  glories  of  the  just !" — Young, 

Now  with  what  pleasure  and  rapture  do  they  look  for- 
ward through  the  long,  long  prospect  of  immortality,  and 
call  it  their  own !  the  duration  not  only  of  their  existence, 
but  of  their  happiness  and  glory  1  O  shall  any  of  us  share 
in  this  immensely  valuable  privilege !  how  immensely 
transporting  the  thought ! 

"  Shall  we,  who  some  few  years  ago  were  less 
Than  worm,  or  mite,  or  shadow  can  express; 
Were  nothing  ;  shall  we  live,  when  every  fire 
Of  every  star  shall  languish  or.  expire  ? 
When  earth's  no  more,  shall  we  survive  above. 
And  through  tlie  shining  ranks  of  angels  move  ? 
Or,  as  before  the  throne  of  God  we  stand, 
See  new  worlds  rolling  from  his  mighty  hand  I 
All  that  has  being  in  full  concert  jom. 
And  celebrate  the  depths  of  love  divine  !" — Young. 

O  what  exploits,  what  miracles  of  power  and  grace  are 
these !  But  why  do  I  darken  such  splendor  with  words 
without  knowledge  ?  the  language  of  mortals  was  formed 
for  lower  descriptions.  Eye  hath  not  seen,  ear  hath  not  heard, 
nor  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  the  things  that  God.  hath 
laid  up  for  them  that  love  him. — 1  Cor.  ii.  9. 

And  now  when  the  inhabitants  of  our  world,  for  whose 
sake  it  was  formed,  are  all  removed  to  other  regions,  and 
that  it  also  meets  its  fate,  it  is  fit  so  guilty  a  globe,  that 
has  been  the  stage  of  sin  for  so  many  thousands  of  years, 


THE    UNIVERSAL   JUDGMENT.  153 

and  which  even  supported  the  cross  on  which  its  Maker 
expired,  should  be  made  a  monument  of  the  divine  dis- 
pleasure, and  either  be  laid  in  ruins  or  refined  by  fire. 
And  see !  the  universal  blaze  begins !  the  heavens  pass 
away  with  a  great  noise ;  the  elements  melt  with  fervent 
heat ;  the  earth  and  the  works  that  are  therein  are  burnt 
up.  Now  stars  rush  from  their  orbits ;  comets  glare  ;  the 
earth  trembles  with  convulsions;  the  Alps,  the  Andes, 
and  all  the  lofty  peaks  of  long-extended  ridges  of  moun- 
tains burst  out  into  so  many  burning  Etnas,  or  thunder, 
and  lightning,  and  smoke,  and  flame,  and  quake  like  Sinai, 
when  God  descended  upon  it  to  publish  its  fiery  law! 
Rocks  melt  and  run  down  in  torrents  of  flame ;  rivers, 
lakes,  and  oceans  boil  and  evaporate.  Sheets  of  fire  and 
pillars  of  smoke,  outrageous  and  insuflerable  thunders  and 
lightnings  burst,  and  bellow,  and  blaze,  and  involve  the 
atmosphere  from  pole  to  pole. 

"  See  all  the  formidable  sons  of  fire, 
Eruptions,  earthquakes,  comets,  lightnings  play 
Their  various  engines ;  all  at  once  discharge 
Their  blazing  magazines,  and  take  by  storm 
This  poor  terrestrial  citadel  of  man." —  Young. 

The  whole  globe  is  now  dissolved  into  a  shapeless  ocean 
of  liquid  fire.  And  where  now  shall  we  find  the  places 
where  cities  stood,  where  armies  fought,  where  mountains 
stretched  their  ridges,  and  reared  their  heads  on  high? 
Alas !  they  are  all  lost,  and  have  left  no  trace  behind  them 
where  they  once  stood.  Where  art  thou,  O  my  country  ? 
Sunk  with  the  rest  as  a  drop  into  the  burning  ocean. 
Where  now  are  your  houses,  your  lands,  and  earthly  pos- 
sessions you  were  once  so  fond  of?  They  are  nowhere 
to  be  found.  How  sorry  a  portion  for  an  immortal  mind 
is  such  a  dying  world  as  this  !     And,  O ! 

"  How  rich  that  God  who  can  such  charge  defray, 
And  bear  to  fling  ten  thousand  worlds  away  1" — Young. 

Thus,  my  brethren,  I  have  given  you  a  view  of  the  so- 
lemnities of  the  last  clay  which  our  world  shall  see.  The 
view  has  indeed  been  but  very  faint  and  obscure ;  and  such 
will  be  all  our  views  and  descriptions  of  it,  till  our  eyes 
and  our  ears  teach  us  better.  Through  these  avenues  you 
will  at  length  receive  your  instructions.  Yes,  brethren, 
those  ears  that  now  hear  my  voice  shall  hear  the  all-alarm- 


,    154  THE   UNIVERSAL  JUDGMENT. 

ing  clangor  of  the  last  trumpet,  the  decisive  sentence  from 
the  mouth  of  the  universal  Judge,  and  the  horrid  crash  of 
falling  worlds.     These  very  eyes  with  which  you  now  see 
one  another,  shall  yet  see  the  descending  Judge,  the  as 
sembled  multitudes,  and  all  the  majestic  phenomena  of 
that  day.     And  we  shall  not  see  them  as  indifferent  spec- 
tators ;  no,  we  are  as  much  concerned  in  this  great  transac- 
tion as  any  of  the  children  of  men.      We  must  all  appear 
before  the  judgment-seat,  and  receive  our  sentence  accord- 
ing to  the  deeds  done  in  the  body.     And  if  so,  what  are 
we   doing   that   we   are   not  more  diligently  preparing? 
Why  does  not  the  present  affect  us  more  ?     Why  does  it 
not   transport  the  righteous  with   joy  unspeakable,   and 
full  of  glory?      And  why  are   not   the   sinners  in  Zion 
afraid  f       Why  does  not  fearfidness  surprise  the  hypocrite  ? 
Can  one  of  you  be  careless  from  this  hour  till  you  are  in 
readiness  for  that  tremendous  day  ?     What  do  the  sinners 
among  you  now  think  of  repentance?     Repentance  is  the 
grand  preparative  for  this  awful  day ;  and  the  apostle,  as 
I  observed,  mentions  the  final  judgment  in  my  text  as  a 
powerful  motive  to  repentance.     And  what  will  criminals 
think  of  repentance  when  they  see  the  Judge  ascend  the 
throne?     Come,  sinners,  look  forward  and  see  the  flaming 
tribunal   erected,  your  crimes  exposed,   your  doom  pro- 
nounced, and  your  hell  begun;  see  a  whole  world  de- 
molished and  ravaged  by  boundless  conflagration  for  your 
sins  !     With  these  objects  before  you,  I  call  joxl  to  repent ! 
— I  call  you !  I  retract  the   words ;  God,  the  great  God 
whom  heaven  and  earth  obey,  commands  you  to  repent. 
Whatever  be  your  characters,  whether  rich  or  poor,  old  or 
young,  white  or  black,  wherever  you  sit  or  stand,   this 
command  reaches  you ;  for  Ood  now  coiiimandeth  all  men 
every  lohere  to  repent.     You  are  this  day  firmly  bound  to 
this  duty  by  his  authority.     And  dare  you  disobc}^  with 
the  prospect  of  all  the  awful  solemnities  of  judgment  before 
you  in  so  near  a  view  ?     O  !  methinks  I  have  now  brouglit 
you  into  such  a  situation,  that  the  often  repeated  but  hith- 
erto neglected  call  to  repentance  will  be  regarded  by  you. 
Repent  you  must,  either  upon  earth,  or  in  hell.     You  must 
either  spend  your  time  or  your  eternity  in  repentance.     It 
is  absolutely  unavoidable.      Putting  it  off  now  does  not 
remove  the  necessity,  but  will  only  render  it  the  more 
bitter  and  severe  hereafter.     Which,  then,  do  you  choose? 


THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL.  155 

the  tolerable,  hopeful,  medicinal  repentance  of  the  present 
life,  or  the  intolerable,  improfitable,  despairing  repentance 
of  hell?  Will  you  choose  to  spend  time  or  eternity  in 
this  melancholy  exercise?  O!  make  the  choice  which 
God,  which  reason,  which  self-interest,  which  common 
sense  recommend  to  you.  Now  repent  at  the  command 
of  God,  because  lie  hath  appointed  a  day  in  lohicli  lie  will 
judge  the  world  in  righteousness,  by  that  Man  ivhom  he  hath 
ordained,  of  lohich  he  hath  given  you  all  full  assurance  in  that 
lie  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead. 


^  * » 


XV. 

THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL. 

*'  And  Jesus  answered  and  said  untoher,  Martha,  Martha,  thou  art  careful 
and  troubled  about  many  things ;  but  one  thing  is  needful :  and  Mary- 
hath  chosen  that  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her." — 
Luke,  X.  41,  42. 

For  what  are  we  placed  in  this  world  ?  Is  it  to  dwell 
here  always?  You  cannot  think  so,  when  the  millions 
of  mankind  that  have  appeared  upon  the  stage  of  time  are 
so  many  instances  of  the  contrary.  The  true  notion  there- 
fore of  the  present  state  is,  that  it  is  a  state  of  preparation 
and  trial  for  the  eternal  world ;  a  state  of  education  for  our 
adtilt  age.  As  children  are  sent  to  school,  and  youth  / 
bound  out  to  trades,  to  prepare  them  for  business,  and  / 
qualify  them  to  live  in  the  world,  so  we  are  placed  here  to 
prepare  us  for  the  grand  business  of  immortahty,  the  state 
of  our  maturity,  and  to  qualify  us  to  live  for  ever.  And 
is  there  a  heaven  of  the  most  perfect  happiness,  and  a 
hell  of  the  most  exquisite  misery,  just  before  us,  perhaps 
not  a  year  or  even  a  day  distant  from  us  ?  And  is  it  the 
great  design,  the  business  and  duty  of  the  present  state,  to 
obtain  the  one  and  escape  the  other?  Then  what  are  we 
doing  ?  What  is  the  world  doing  all  around  us  ?  Are 
they  acting  as  it  becomes  candidates  for  eternity  ?  Are 
they  indeed  making  that  the  principal  object  of  their  most 
zealous  endeavors',  which  is  the  grand  design,  business,  and 
duty  of  the  present  state  ?     Are  they  minding  this  at  all 


156  THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL. 

adventures  whatever  else  they  neglect  ?  This  is  what  we 
might  expect  from  them  as  reasonable  creatures,  as  crea- 
tures that  love  themselves,  and  have  a  strong  innate  desire 
of  happiness.  This  a  stranger  to  our  world  might  charita- 
bly presume  concerning  them.  But,  alas  !  look  upon  the 
conduct  of  the  world  around  you,  or  look  nearer  home,  and 
where  you  are  most  nearly  interested,  upon  your  own 
conduct,  and  you  will  see  this  is  not  generally  the  case. 
iSTo ;  instead  of  pursuing  the  one  thing  needful,  the  world 
is  all  in  motion,  all  bustle  and  hurry,  like  ants  upon  a 
mole-hill,  about  other  affairs.  They  are  in  a  still  higher 
degree  than  officious  Martha,  careful  and  troubled  about 
tnany  things. 

Now  to  recall  you  from  this  endless  variety  of  vain 
pursuits,  and  direct  you.r  endeavors  to  the  proper  object,  I 
can  think  of  no  better  expedient  than  to  explain  and  in- 
culcate upon  you  the  admonition  of  Christ  to  Martha,  and 
his  commendation  of  Mary  upon  this  head. 

Martha  was  the  head  of  a  little  family,  probably  a  wid- 
ow, in  a  village  near  Jerusalem,  called  Bethany.  Her 
brother  and  sister,  Lazaras  and  Mary,  lived  alone  with 
her.  And  what  is  remarkable  concerning  this  little  family 
is,  that  they  were  all  lovers  of  Jesus :  and  their  love  was 
not  without  returns  on  his  side ;  for  we  are  expressly  told 
that  Jesus  loved  Martha^  and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus. — 
What  a  happy  family  is  this!  but  0  how  rare  in  the 
world !  This  was  a  convenient  place  of  retirement  to  Je- 
sus, after  the  labors  and  fatigues  of  his  ministry  in  the  city ; 
and  here  we  often  find  him. 

Though  spent  and  exhausted  with  his  public  services, 
yet  when  he  gets  into  the  circle  of  a  few  friends  in  a  pri- 
vate house  he  cannot  be  idle :  he  still  instructs  them  with 
his  heavenly  discourse,  and  his  conversation  is  a  constant 
sermon.  Mary,  who  was  passionately  devout  and  eager 
for  instruction,  would  not  let  such  a  rare  opportunity  slip, 
but  sits  down  at  the  feet  of  this  great  Teacher,  which  was 
the  posture  of  the  Jewish  pupils  before  their  masters,  and 
eagerly  catches  every  word  from  his  lips.  Though  she 
is  solicitous  for  the  comfort  of  her  heavenly  guest,  yet  she 
makes  no  great  stir  to  provide  for  him  an  elegant  or  sump- 
tuous entertainment ;  for  she  knew  his  happiness  did  not 
consist  in  luxurious  eating  and  drinking :  it  was  his  meat 
and  drink  to  do  the  will  af  his  Father  ;  and  as  for  the  suste- 


THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL.  157 

nance  of  his  body,  plain  food  was  most  acceptable  to  him. 
He  was  not  willing  that  any  should  lose  their  souls  by 
losing  opportunities  of  instruction,  while  they  were  making 
sumptuous  provision  fpr  him.  Mary  was  also  so  deeply 
engaged  about  her  salvation,  that  she  was  nobly  careless 
about  the  little  decencies  of  entertq,inments.  The  body 
and  all  its  supports  and  gratifications  appeared  of  very 
small  importance  to  her  when  compared  with  the  immor- 
tal soul.  All  this  she  did  with  Christ's  warm  approbation, 
and  therefore  her  conduct  is  an  example  worthy  of  our 
imitation. 

Martha,  though   a  pious  woman,   yet   like  too   many       ) 
among  us,   was  too   solicitous  about   these   things.     She      / 
seemed  more   concerned  to  maintain  her  reputation  for 
good  economy  and  hospitality  than  to  improve  in  divine 
knowledge    at    every  opportunity,  and   to  entertain  her 
guest  rather  as  a  gentleman  than  as  a  divine  teacher  and      J 
the  Saviour  of  souls.     Hence,  instead  of  sitting  at  his  feet 
with  her  sister  in  the  posture  of  a  humble  disciple,  she  was 
busy  in  making  preparations,  and  her  mind  was  distracted 
with  the  cares  of  her  family.     As  moderate  labor  and  care 
about  earthly  things  is  lawful,  and  even  a  duty,  persons 
are  not  readily  suspicious  or  easily  convinced  of  their 
guilty  excesses  in  these  labors  and  cares.     Hence  Martha 
is  so  far  from  condemning  herself  on  this  account,  that  she 
blames  her  devout  sister  for  not  following  her  example. 

Jesus  turns  upon  her  with  just  severity,  and  throws  the 
blame  where  it  should  lie.  Martha,  Martha  !  There  is  a 
vehemence  and  pungency  in  the  repetition,  Martha,  Mar-  y 
tha,  thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things,'  "  Thy  / 
worldly  mind  has  many  objects,  and  many  objects  excite 
m-any  cares  and  troubles,  fruitless  trouble  and  useless  cares. 
But  one  thing  is  needful ;  and  therefore  dropping  thy  exces- 
sive care  about  many  things,  make  this  one  thing  the  great 
object  of  thy  pursuit.  This  one  thing  is  what  thy  sister 
is  now  attending  to,  while  thou  art  vainly  careful  about 
many  things ;  and  therefore,  instead  of  blaming  her  con- 
duct I  must  approve  it.  She  has  made  the  best  choice, 
for  she  hath  chosen  that  good  ^:)ar^  which  shall  not  be  taken 
aiuay  from  her.  After  all  thy  care  and  labor,  the  things 
of  this  vain  world  must  be  given  up  at  last,  and  lost  for 
ever.  But  Mary  hath  made  a  wiser  choice ;  the  portion 
she  hath  chosen  shall  be  hers  for  ever." 

14 


158  THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL. 

But  what  does  Christ  mean  by  this  one  thing  which  alone 
is  needful  ? 

I  answer,  it  must  mean  something  different  from,  and 
superior  to  all  the  pursuits  of  time.  The  one  thing  need- 
ful must  mean  the  salvation  of  the  soul,  and  an  earnest 
application  to  the  means  necessary  to  obtain  this  end, 
above  all  other  things  in  the  world.  The  end,  namely, 
salvation,  will  be  granted  by  all  to  be  necessary,  and  the 
necessity  of  the  end  renders  the  means  also  necessary.  If 
it  be  necessary  you  should  be  for  ever  happy,  and  escape 
everlasting  misery,  it  is  necessary  you  should  be  holy ; 
for  you  can  no  more  be  saved  without  holiness,  than  you 
can  be  healthy  without  health,  see  without  light,  or  live 
without  food.  And  if  holiness  be  necessary,  then  the  earn- 
est use  of  the  means  appointed  for  the  production  and 
improvement  of  holiness  in  us  must  be  necessary  too ;  for 
you  can  no  more  expect  to  become  holy  without  the  use 
of  these  means,  than  to  reap  without  sowing,  or  become 
truly  virtuous  and  good  by  chance  or  fatality.  To  be  holy 
in  order  to  be  happy,  and  to  use  all  the  means  of  grace  in 
order  to  be  holy,  is  therefore  the  one  thing  needful. 

It  may  also  be  called  the  one  thing  needful,  to  intimate 
that  this  is  needful  above  all  other  thing-s.     It  is  a  common 

o 

form  of  speech  to  say  of  that  which  is  necessary  above  all 
other  things,  that  it  is  the  one  or  only  thing  necessary :  so 
we  may  understand  this  passage.  There  are  what  we  call 
the  real  necessaries  of  life,  such  as  food  and  raiment ; 
there  are  also  necessary  callings  and  necessary  labors.  All 
these  are  necessary  in  a  lower  sense ;  necessary  in  their 
proper  place.  But  in  comparison  of  the  great  work  of  our 
salvation,  they  are  all  unnecessary ;  if  we  be  but  saved, 
we  may  do  very  well  without  them  all.  This  is  so  neces- 
sary, that  nothing  else  deserves  to  be  called  necessary  in 
comparison  of  it.  I  add  further,  this  one  thing  ma}^  be 
said  to  be  necessary,  always,  or  for  ever.  The  necessaries 
of  this  life  we  cannot  want  long,  for  we  must  soon  remove 
into  a  world  where  there  is  no  room  for  them ;  but  holi- 
ness and  salvation  we  shall  iind  needful  always :  need- 
ful under  the  calamities  of  life ;  needful  in  the  agonies  of 
death  ;  needful  in  the  world  of  spirits ;  needful  millions 
of  ages  hence  ;  needful  to  all  eternity  ;  and  without  it  we 
ar^  eternally  undone.  This  is  a  necessity  indeed  !  a  neces- 
sity in  comparison  of  which  all  other  necessities  are  but 


THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL.  159 

superfluities.  I  hope  by  this  short  explication  I  have 
cleared  the  way  through  your  "understandings  to  your 
hearts,  and  to  your  hearts  I  would  now  address  myself. 

My  first  request  to  you  is,  that  you  would  make  this 
passage  the  test  of  your  characters,  and  seriously  inquire 
whether  you  have  lived  in  the  world  as  those  that  really 
and  practically  believe  that  this  is  the  one  thing  of  abso- 
lute necessity.  Are  not  all  the  joys  of  heaven  and  your 
immortal  souls  worth  the  little  pains  of  seriously  putting 
this  short  question  to  your  consciences?  Eeview  your 
life,  look  at  your  hearts,  and  inquire,  has  this  one  thing 
lain  more  upon  your  hearts  than  all  other  things  together  ? 
Has  this  been,  above  all  other  things,  the  object  of  your 
most  vehement  desire,  your  most  earnest  endeavors,  and 
eager  pursuit  ?  I  do  not  ask  you  whether  you  have  heard 
or  read  that  this  one  thing  is  necessary,  or  whether  you 
have  sometimes  talked  about  it.  I  do  not  ask  whether  you 
have  paid  to  God  the  compliment  of  appearing  in  his  house 
once  a  week,  or  of  performing  him  a  little  lip-service 
morning  and  evening  in  your  families,  or  in  your  closets, 
after  you  have  served  yourselves  and  the  world  all  the  rest 
of  your  time,  without  one  affectionate  thought  of  Grod.  I 
do  not  ask  Avhether  you  have  performed  many  actions  that 
are  materially  good,  and  abstained  from  many  sins.  All 
this  you  may  have  done,  and  yet  have  neglected  the  one 
thing  needful  all  your  lives. 

But  I  ask  you,  whether  this  one  thing  needful  has  been 
habitually  uppermost  in  your  hearts,  the  favorite  object  of 
your  desires,  the  prize  of  your  most  vigorous  endeavors, 
the  supreme  happiness  of  your  souls,  and  the  principal  ob- 
ject of  your  concern  above  all  things  in  the  world  ?  Sirs, 
you  may  now  hear  this  question  with  stupid  unconcern 
and  indifference ;  but  I  must  tell  you,  you  will  find  another 
day  how  much  depends  upon  it.  In  that  day  it  will  be 
found,  that  the  main  difference  between  true  Christians  and 
the  various  classes  of  sinners  is  this : — God,  Christ,  holi- 
ness, and  the  concerns  of  eternity,  are  habitually  upper- 
most in  the  hearts  of  the  former ;  but,  to  the  latter,  they 
are  generally  but  things  by  the  by ;  and  the  world  en- 
grosses the  vigor  of  their  souls,  and  is  the  principal  concern 
of  their  lives.  To  serve  God,  to  obtain  his  favor,  and  to 
be  happy  for  ever  in  his  love,  is  the  main  business  of  the 
saint,  to  which  all  the  concerns  of  the  world  and  the  flesh, 


160  THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL. 

must  give  way;  but  to  live  in  ease,  in  reputation,  in  pleas- 
ure, or  ricbes,  or  to  gratify  bimself  in  tbe  pursuit  and  en- 
joyment of  some  created  good,  this  is  tbe  main  concern  of 
tbe  sinner.  Tbe  one  bas  made  a  bearty  resignation  of 
bimself,  and  all  tbat  be  is  and  bas,  to  God,  tbrougb  Jesus 
Cbrist ;  be  serves  bim  witb  tbe  best,  and  tbinks  notbing 
too  good  for  bim.  But  tbe  otber  bas  bis  exceptions  and 
reserves :  be  will  serve  God  willingly,  provided  it  may 
consist  witb  bis  ease,  and  pleasure,  and  temporal  interest ; 
be  will  serve  God  witb  a  bended  knee,  and  tbe  external 
forms  of  devotion ;  but,  witb  tbe  vigor  of  bis  spirit,  be 
serves  tbe  world  and  bis  flesb.  Tbis  is  tbe  grand  differ- 
ence between  a  true  Cbristian  and  tbe  various  forms  of 
balf-cbristians  and  bypocrites.  And  certainly  tbis  is  a  dif- 
ference tbat  may  be  discerned.  Tbe  tenor  of  a  man's  prac- 
tice, and  tbe  object  of  bis  love,  especially  of  bis  bigbest 
love  and  practical  esteem,  must  certainly  be  very  distin- 
guisbable  from  a  tbing  by  tbe  by,  and  from  tbe  object 
of  a  languid  passion,  or  mere  speculation.  Tberefore,  if 
you  make  but  an  impartial  trial,  you  bave  reason  to  bope 
you  will  make  a  just  discovery  of  your  true  character. 
Brethren,  I  beseech  you,  by  one  means  or  other,  to  bring 
tbis  matter  to  an  issue,  and  let  it  bang  in  suspense  no  lon- 
ger. Why  are  you  so  indifferent  bow  this  matter  stands 
witb  you  ?  Is  it  because  you  imagine  you  may  be  true 
Christians,  and  obtain  salvation,  however  this  matter  be 
witb  you  ?  But  be  not  deceived  ;  no  man  can  serve  two 
masters,  whose  commands  are  contrary ;  and  ye  cannot 
serve  God  and  Mammon,  witb  a  service  equally  devoted  to 
both.  Jf  any  m.an  love  the  tuorld  witb  supreme  affections, 
the  love  of  the  Fathei'  is  not  in  him.  Be  not  deceived,  God  is 
not  mocked  ;  whatsoever  a  man  soiceth,  that  shall  he  reap  ; — 
if  you  soiv  to  the  flesh,  of  the  flesh  shall  you  reaj)  corrwpiion  ; 
miserable  harvest  indeed!  But  if  you  soiv  to  the  spirit,  you 
shall  of  the  spirit  reap  life  everlasting.  Tberefore  you  may  be 
sure  that  if  you  live  after  the  flesh,  you  shall  die ;  and  that 
you  can  never  enjoy  the  one  tbing  needful  unless  you 
mind  and  pursue  it  above  all  otber  things. 

But  I  snail  not  urge  you  further  to  try  yourselves  by 
this  test.  I  take  it  for  granted  the  consciences  of  some  of 
you  bave  determined  tbe  matter,  and  that  you  are  plainly 
cenvicted  of  having  hitherto  neglected  the  one  thing  need- 
ful.    Allow  me  then  honestly  to  expose  your  conduct  in 


THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL.  161 

its  proper  colors,  and  tell  you  what  you  have  been  doing 
while  you  were  busy  about  other  things,  and  neglected  this 
one  thing  needful. 

1.  However  well  you  have  improved  your  time  for 
other  purposes,  you  have  lost  it  all,  unless  you  have  im- 
proved it  in  securing  the  one  thing  needful.  The  proper 
notion  of  time  is,  that  it  is  a  space  for  repentance.  Time  is 
given  "US  to  prepare  for  eternity.  If  this  is  done,  we  have 
lived  long  enough,  and  the  great  end  of  time  and  life  is  an- 
swered, whatever  else  be  undone.  But  if  this  be  undone, 
you  have  lived  in  vain,  and  all  your  time  is  lost,  however 
briskly  and  successfully  you  have  pursued  other  things. 
And,  believe  me,  time  is  a  precious  thing.  So  it  will  ap- 
pear in  a  dying  hour,  or  in  the  eternal  world,  to  the  great- 
est spendthrift  among  you.  Then,  0  for  a  year,  or  even 
a  week,  or  a  day,  to  secure  that  one  thing  which  you  are 
now  neglecting!  And  will  you  now  waste  your  time, 
while  you  enjoy  it?  Shall  so  precious  a  blessing  be  lost? 
Time  was  given  you  to  secure  an  eternity  of  happiness,' 
but  you  have  spent  it  in  adding  sin  to  sin,  and  consequently 
in  treasuring  up  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath.  And  is 
not  your  time  then  a  thousand  times  worse  than  lost?  Let 
me  tell  you,  if  you  continue  in  this  course  to  the  end,  you 
will  wish  a  thousand  times,  either  that  you  had  never  one 
hour's  time  given  you,  or  that  you  had  made  a  better  use 
of  it. 

2.  Whatever  else  you  have  been  doing,  you  have  lost 
your  labor  with  your  time,  if  you  have  not  labored  above 
all  things  for  this  one  thing  needful.  You  have  perhaps 
toiled  through  many  anxious  and  laborious  days,  and  your 
nights  have  shared  in  the  anxieties  and  labors  of  your 
days.  But  if  you  have  not  labored  for  the  one  thing  ne- 
cessary, all  your  labors  and  all  the  fruits  of  it  are  lost. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Not  only  your  secular  labor  is  lost, 
but  all  your  toil  and  pains,  if  you  have  used  'any  in  the 
duties  of  religion,  they  are  lost  likewise.  Your  reading, 
hearing,  praying,  and  communicating ;  all  your  serious 
thoughts  of  death  and  eternity — all  your  struggles  with 
particular  lusts  and  temptations — all  the  kind  offices  you 
have  done  to  mankind — all  are  lost ;  since  you  have  per- 
formed them  by  halves  with  a  lukewarm  heart,  and  have 
not  made  the  one  thing  needful  your  great  business  and 
pursuit.     All  these  things  will  not  save  you ;  and  what  is 


162  THE   ONE   THIKG   NEEDFUL. 

that  religion  good  for  wliicli  will  not  save  your  souls? 
Wliat  do  tliose  religious  endeavors  avail  wliicli  will  suffer 
you  to  fall  into  liell  after  all  ?  Certainly  such  religion  is 
vain. 

And  now,  my  hearers,  do  you  believe  this,  or  do  you 
not?  If  you  do,  will  you,  dare  you,  still  go  on  in  the 
same  course  ?  If  you  do  not  believe  it,  let  me  reason  the 
matter  with  you  a  little.  You  will  not  believe  that  all 
the  labor  and  pains  you  have  taken  all  your  life  have  been 
quite  lost ;  no,  you  now  enjoy  the  fruits  of  them.  But 
show  me  now,  if  you  can,  what  you  have  gotten  by  all 
that  stir  you  have  made,  that  will  follow  one  step  beyond 
the  grave,  or  that  you  can  call  your  own  to-morrow? 
Where  is  that  sure,  immortal  acquisition  that  you  can  carry 
with  you  into  the  eternal  world  ?  Were  you  to  die  this 
hour,  would  it  afford  you  any  pleasure  to  reflect  that  you 
have  lived  a  merry  life,  and  had  a  satiety  of  sensual  pleas- 
ures, or  that  you  have  labored  for  riches  and  honors,  and 
perhaps  acquired  them?  Will  this  reflection  aftbrd  you 
pleasure  or  pain  ?  Will  this  abate  the  agony  of  eternal 
pain,  or  make  up  for  the  loss  of  heaven,  which  you  will- 
fully incurred  by  an  over-eager  pursuit  of  these  perishing 
vanities  ?     But, 

3.  This  is  not  all.  All  your  labor  and  pains  have  not 
only  been  lost  while  you  have  neglected  this  one  thing, 
but  you  have  taken  pains  to  ruin  yourselves,  and  labored 
hard  all  your  lives  for  your  own  destruction.  You  may 
indulge  the  carnal  mind,  and  walk  after  the  flesh,  and  3'et 
hope  no  bad  consequences  to  follow :  but  God  has  told 
you  that  to  he  carnally  minded  is  death,  and  that  if  you  live 
after  the  flesh  you  shall  die.  No  enemy  in  the  whole  uni- 
verse could  do  you  that  injury  without  your  consent  which 
you  are  doing  to  yourselves.  To  tempt  you  to  sin  is  all 
the  devil  can  do ;  but  the  temptation  alone  can  do  you  no 
injury  ;  it  is  consenting  to  it  that  ruins  you ;  and  this  con- 
sent is  your  own  voluntary  act. 

4.  If  you  have  hitherto  neglected  the  one  thing  needful, 
you  have  unmanned  yourselves,  acted  beneath,  and  con- 
trary to  your  own  reason,  and  in  plain  terms  behaved  as 
if  you  ha^l  been  out  of  your  senses.  If  you  have  the  use 
of  your  reason,  it  must  certainly  tell  you  for  what  it  was 
given  to  you.  And,  I  beseech  you,  toll  me  what  was  it  given 
you  for  but  to  serve  the  God  that  made  you,  to  secure  his 


THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL.  163 

favor,  to  prepare  for  your  eternal  state,  and  to  enjoy  the 

supreme  good  as  your  portion  ?     Where  was  your  reason 

when  your  dying  flesh  was  preferred  to  your  immortal 

spirit  ?     Was  reason  your  guide  when  you  chose  the  trash 

of  this  perishing  world,  and  sought  it  more  than  the  favor 

of  Grod  and  all  the  joys  of  heaven  ?   What  have  you  done  all 

your  life  to  make  a  wise  man  think  you  truly  reasonable  ?  Is 

that  your  reason,  to  be  wise  to  do  evil,  while  to  do  good 

you  have  no  knowledge ;  or  to  be  ingenious  and  active 

about  the  trifles  of  time,  while  you  neglect  that  great  work 

for  which  you  were  created  and  redeemed?     Can  you  be 

wise  and  not  consider  your  latter  end?     Nay,  can  you 

pretend  to  so  much  as  common  sense,  while  you  sell  your 

eternal  salvation  for  the  sordid  pleasures  of  a  few  fleeting 

years  ?     Have  you  common  sense,  when  you  will  not  keep 

yourselves  out  of  everlasting  fire  ?     What  can  a  madman 

do  worse  than  willfully  destroy  himself?     And  this  you  are 

doing  every  day.     And  yet  these  very  persons  are  proud 

of  their  madness,  and  are  apt  to  fling  the  charge  of  folly 

upon  others,  especially  if  they  observe  some  poor  weak 

creatures,  that  though  it  be  but  one  in  five  hundred,  fall 

into  melancholy,  or  lose  their  reason  for  a  time,  while  they 

are  groaning  under  a  sense  of  sin,  and  anxious  about  their 

eternal  state ;  then  what  a  clamor  against  religion  and  pre- 

ciseness,  as  the  ready  way  to  make  people  run  mad !  then 

they  even  dare  to  publish  their  resolution,  that  they  will 

not  read  and  pore  so  much  upon  these  things,  lest  it  should 

drive  them  out  of  their  senses.     0  miserable  mortals !  is  it 

possible  they  should  be  more  dangerously  mad  than  they 

are  already  ?     Do  you  lay  out  your  reason,  your  strength, 

and  time  in  pursuing  vain  shadows,  and  in  feeding  a  mortal 

body  for  the  grave,  while  the  important  realities  of  the 

eternal  world  and  the  salvation  of  your  immortal  souls 

are  forgotten  or  neglected  ?    Do  you  sell  your  Saviour  ^\'ith 

Judas  for  a  little  money,  and  change  your  part  in  God  and 

heaven  for  the  sordid  pleasures  of  sin,  which  are  but  for  a 

season?  and  are  you  afraid  of  seriously  reflecting  upon 

this  course,  that  you  may  reform  it,  for  fear  such  thoughts 

should  make  you  mad  ?     What  greater  madness  than  this 

.  can  you  fear  ?     Will  you  run  from  God,  from  Christ,  from 

mercy,  from  the  saints,  from  heaven  itself,  for  fear  of  being 

mad !     Alas !  you  are  mad  in  the  worst  sense  already. 

Will  you  run  to  hell  to  prove  yourselves  in  your  senses  ? 


164  THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL. 

He  was  a  wise  and  good  man  who  said,  "  Thougli  the  loss 
of  a  man's  understanding  is  a  grievons  affliction,  and  such 
as  I  hope  God  will  never  lay  upon  me,  yet  I  had  a  thous- 
and times  rather  go  distracted  to  Bedlam  with  the  exces- 
sive care  about  my  salvation,  than  to  be  one  of  you  that 
cast  away  the  care  of  your  salvation  for  fear  of  being  dis- 
tracted, and  will  go  among  the  infernal  Bedlams  into  hell 
for  fear  of  being  mad." 

It  would  be  easy  to  offer  many  more  considerations  to 
expose  the  absurdity  and  danger  of  your  conduct  in  neg- 
lecting the  one  thing  necessary,  but  these  must  sufftce  for 
the  present  hour.  And  I  only  desire  you  to  consider  fur- 
ther, if  this  be  a  just  view  of  the  conduct  of  such  as 
are  guilty  of  this  neglect,  in  what  a  miserable,  pitiable 
condition  is  the  world  in  general !  I  have  so  often  tried 
the  utmost  energy  of  my  own  words  upon  you  with  so 
little  success  as  to  many,  that  I  am  grown  quite  weary  of 
them.  Allow  me,  therefore,  for  once,  to  borrow  the  more 
striking  and  pungent  words  of  one  now  in  heaven  ;  of  one 
who  had  more  success  than  almost  any  of  his  coternpora- 
ries  or  successors  in  the  important  work  of  converting  sin- 
ners from  the  error  of  their  way,  and  saving  souls  from 
death ;  I  mean  the  incomparable  preacher,  Mr.  Baxter, 
who  sowed  an  immortal  seed  in  his  parish  of  Kiddermin- 
ster, which  grows,  and  brings  forth  fruit  to  this  day.  His 
words  have,  through  the  divine  blessing,  been  irresistible 
to  thousands ;  and  0  that  such  of  you,  my  dear  hearers, 
whose  hearts  may  have  been  proof  against  mine,  may  not 
be  so  against  his  also! 

"Look  upon  this  text' of  Scripture,"  says  he,  "and  look 
also  upon  the  course  of  the  earth,  and  consider  the  disa- 
greement ;  and  whether  it  be  not  still  as  before  the  flood, 
that  all  the  imaginations  of  man's  heart  are  evil  continu- 
ally. Were  it  possible  for  a  man  to  see  the  affections  and 
motions  of  all  the  world  at  once  as  God  seeth  them,  what 
a  pitiful  sight  it  would  be !  What  a  stir  do  they  make, 
alas,  poor  souls !  for  they  know  not  what !  while  they  for- 
get, or  slight,  or  hate  the  one  thing  needful.  What  a  heap 
of  gadding  ants  should  we  see,  that  do  nothing  but  gather 
sticks  and  straws !  Look  among  persons  of  every  rank, 
in  city  'and  country,  and  look  into  families  about  you,  and 
see  what  trade  it  is  they  are  most  busily  driving  on,  whether 
it  be  for  heaven  or  earth  ?  and  whether  you  can  discern, 


THE   oisTE   THING   NEEDFUL.  165 

by  their  care  and  labor,  that  they  understand  what  is  the 
one  thing  necessary.  They  are  as  busy  as  bees,  but  not 
for  honey ;  but  in  spinning  such  a  spider's  web  as  the  besom 
of  death  will  presently  sweep  down.  They  labor  hard; 
but  for  what  ?  for  the  food  that  perisheth,  but  not  for  that 
which  endureth  to  everlasting  life.  They  are  diligent 
seekers ;  but  for  what  ?  Not  first  for  God,  his  kingdom 
and  -righteousness,  but  for  that  which  they  might  have  had 
as  an  addition  to  their  blessedness.  They  are  still  doing ; 
what  are  they  doing?  Even  undoing  themselves  by  run- 
ning away  from  God,  to  hunt  after  the  perishing  pleasures 
of  the  world.  Some  of  them  hear  the  word  of  God,  but 
they  presently  choke  it  hy  the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  and  the 
cares  of  this  life.  They  are  careful  and  troubled  about  many 
things ,'  but  the  one  thing  that  should  be  all  to  them  is  cast 
by  as  if  it  were  nothing.  Providing  for  the  flesh  and 
minding  the  world  is  the  employment  of  their  lives.  They 
have  no  covetousness  for  the  things  which  they  are  com- 
manded earnestly  to  covet.  Come  at  any  time  into  their 
company  and  you  may  talk  enough,  and  too  much,  of  news, 
or  other  men's  matters,  of  their  worldly  business,  sports, 
and  pleasures;  but  about  God  and  their  salvation,  they 
have  so  little  to  say,  and  that  so  heartlessly,  and  by  the 
by,  as  if  they  vfere  things  that  belonged  not  to  their  care 
and  duty,  and  no  whit  concerned  them.  Talk  with  them 
about  the  renovation  of  the  soul,  the  nature  of  holiness, 
and  the  life  to  come,  and  you  will  find  them  almost  as 
dumb  as  a  fish.  The  most  understand  not  matters  of  this 
nature,  nor  much  desire  or  care  to  understand  them.  If 
one  would  teach  them  personally,  they  are  too  old  to  be 
catechised  or  learn,  though  not  too  old  to  be  ignorant  of 
the  matters  they  were  made  for  and  preserved  for  in  the 
world.  They  are  too  wise  to  learn  to  be  wise,  and  too 
good  to  be  taught  how  to  be  good,  though  not  too  wise  to 
follow  the  seducements  of  the  devil  and  the  world,  nor  too 
good  to  be  the  slaves  of  Satan  and  the  despisers  and 
enemies  of  goodness.  If  they  do  any  thing  which  they 
call  serving  God,  it  is  some  cold  and  heartless  use  of  words 
to  make  themselves  believe  that  for  all  their  sins  they 
shall  be  saved ;  so  that  God  will  call  that  a  serving  their 
sins  and  abominations,  which  they  will  call  a  serving  God. 
Some  of  them  will  confess  that  holiness  is  good,  but  they 
hope  God  will  be  merciful  unto  them  without  it ;  and  some 


166  THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL. 

do  SO  hate  it,  that  it  is  a  displeasing,  irksome  thing  to  them 
to  hear  any  serious  discourse  of  holiness ;  and  they  detest 
and  deride  those  as  fanatical,  troublesome  precisians,  that 
diligently  seek  the  one  thing  needful ;  so  that  if  the  belief 
of  the  most  may  be  judged  from  their  practices,  we  may 
confidently  say,  that  they  do  not  practically  believe  that 
ever  they  shall  be  brought  to  judgment,  or  that  there  is 
any  heaven  or  hell  to  be  expected ;  and  that  confession  of 
the  truth  of  the  Scriptures  and  the  articles  of  the  Christian 
faith  are  no  j^roof  that  they  heartily  take  them  to  be  true. 
Who  can  be  such  a  stranger  to  the  world  as  not  to  see  that 
this  is  the  case  of  the  greatest  part  of  men  ?  And,  which 
is  worst  of  all,  they  go  on  in  this  course  against  all  that 
can  be  said  to  them,  and  will  give  no  impartial,  considerate 
hearing  of  the  truth,  which  would  recover  them  to  their 
wits,  but  live  as  if  it  would  be  a  felicity  to  them  in  hell  to 
think  that  they  came  thither  by  willful  resolution  and  in 
despite  of  the  remedy." 

This,  sinners,  is  a  true  representation  of  your  case,  drawn 
by  one  that  well  knew  it  and  lamented  it.  And  what  do 
you  now  think  of  it  yourselves  ?  What  do  you  think  will 
be  the  consequence  of  such  a  course  ?  Is  it  safe  to  persist 
in  it?  or  shall  I  be  so  happy  as  to  bring  you  to  a  stand? 
Will  you  still  go  on,  troubling  yourselves  with  many 
things  ?  or  will  you  resolve  for  the  future  to  mind  the  one 
thing  needful  above  all  ?  I  beseech  you  to  come  to  some 
resolution.  Time  is  on  the  wing,  and  does  not  allow  you 
to  hesitate  in  so  plain  and  important  an  affair.  Do  you 
need  any  further  excitements  ?  Then  I  shall  try  the  force 
of  one  consideration  more,  contained  in  my  text,  and  that 
is  necessity.  Kemember  necessity,  the  most  pressing, 
absolute  necessity,  enforces  the  care  upon  you.  One  thing 
is  needful,  absolutely  needful,  and  needful  above  all  other 
things.  This,  one  would  think,  is  such  an  argument  as 
cannot  but  prevail.  What  exploits  has  necessity  performed 
in  the  world !  What  arts  has  it  discovered  as  the  mother 
of  invention  !  What  labors,  what  fatigues,  what  sufferings 
has  it  undergone!  What  dangers  has  it  encountered! 
What  difficulties  has  it  overcome!  Necessity  is  a  plea 
which  you  think  will  warrant  you  to  do  any  thing  and 
excuse  any  thing.  To  obtain  the  necessaries  of  life,  as  they 
are  called,  how  much  will  men  do  and  suffer !  Nay,  with 
what  hardships  and  perils  will  they  not  conflict  for  things 


THE   ON'E  THING  NEEDFUL.  167 

that  tliej  imagine  necessary,  not  to  their  life,  but  to  their 
ease,  their  honor,  or  pleasure  !  Bat  what  is  this  necessity 
when  compared  to  that  which  I  am  now  urging  upon  you  ? 
To  escape  everlasting  misery,  and  to  secure  everlasting 
salvation,  this  is  the  grand  necessity !  And  shall  not  this 
grand  necessity  prevail  upon  you  to  work  out  your  salva- 
tion, and  make  that  your  great  business,  when  a  far  less 
necessity,  a  necessity  that  will  last  but  a  few  years,  at  most, 
sets  you  and  the  world  around  you  upon  such  hard  labors 
and  eager  pursuits  for  perishing  vanities  ?  If  you  do  not 
labor  or  contrive  for  the  bread  that  jyerisheth,  you  must  beg 
or  starve ;  but  if  you  do  not  labor  for  the  bread  that  en- 
dureth  unto  everlasting  life,  you  must  burn  in  hell  for  ever. 
You  must  suffer  hunger  and  nakedness  unless  you  take 
care  to  provide  food  and  raiment ;  but  you  must  suffer 
eternal  banishment  from  God  and  all  the  joys  of  his  pres- 
ence, if  you  do  not  labor  to  secure  the  one  thing  needful. 
Without  the  riches  of  the  world  you  may  be  rich  in  faith, 
and  heirs  of  the  heavenly  inheritance.  Without  earthly 
pleasures  you  may  have  joy  unspeakable  and  fall  of  glory 
in  the  love  of  God,  and  the  expectation  of  the  kingdom 
reserved  in  heaven  for  you.  Without  health  of  body  you 
may  have  happiness  of  spirit ;  and  even  without  this  mor- 
tal life  you  may  enjoy  eternal  life.  Without  the  things  of 
the  world  you  may  live  in  want  for  a  little  while,  but  then 
you  will  soon  be  upon  an  equality  with  the  greatest  princes. 
But,  without  this  one  thing  needful,  you  are  undone,  abso- 
lutely undone.  Your  very  being  becomes  a  curse  to  you. 
O  then  let  this  grand  necessity  prevail  with  you ! 

Therefore,  to  conclude  with  the  awakening  and  resistless 
words  of  the  author  I  before  quoted,  "  Awake,  you  sluggish, 
careless  souls !  your  house  over  your  head  is  in  a  flame ! 
the  hand  of  God  is  lifted  up !  If  you  love  yourselves  pre- 
vent the  stroke.  Vengeance  is  at  your  backs,  the  wrath 
of  God  pursues  your  sin,  and  woe  to  you  if  he  find  it  upon 
you  when  he  overtaketh  you.  Away  with  it  speedily! 
up  and  begone ;  return  to  God ;  make  Christ  and  mercy 
your  friends  in  time,  if  you  love  your  lives !  the  Judge  is 
coming !  for  all  that  you  have  heard  of  it  so  long,  yet  still 
you  believe  it  not.  You  shall  shortly  see  the  majesty  of 
his  appearance  and  the  dreadful  glory  of  his  face ;  and  yet 
do  you  not  begin  to  look  about  you,  and  make  ready  for 
such  a  day  ?     Yea,  before  that  day,  your  separated  souls 


168  SAINTS  SAVED   WITH   DIFFICULTY,    AND. 

sliall  begin  to  reap  as  you  have  sowed  liere.  Thougli  now 
the  partition  that  stands  between  you  and  the  world  to 
come  do  keep  unbelievers  strangers  to  the  things  that  most 
concern  them,  yet  death  will  quickly  find  a  portal  to  let 
you  in ;  and  then,  sinners,  you  will  find  such  doings  there 
as  you  little  thought  of,  or  did  not  sensibly  regard  upon 
earth.  Before  your  friends  will  have  time  enough  to  wrap 
up  your  pale  corpse  in  your  winding-sheet,  you  will  see 
and  feel  that  which  will  tell  you  to  the  quick,  that  one 
thing  was  necessary.  If  you  die  without  this  one  thing- 
necessary,  before  your  friends  can  have  finished  your  funer- 
al, your  souls  will  have  taken  up  their  places  among  devils 
in  endless  torments  and  despair,  and  all  the  wealth,  and 
honor,  and  pleasure  that  the  world  afforded  you  will  not 
ease  you.  This  is  sad,  but  it  is  true,  sirs ;  for  God  hath 
spoken  it.  Up  therefore  and  bestir  you  for  the  life  of  your 
souls.  Necessity  will  awake  even  the  sluggard.  Necessity, 
we  say,  will  break  through  stone  walls.  The  proudest  will 
stoop  to  necessity :  necessity  will  make  men  do  any  thing 
that  is  possible  to  be  done.  And  is  not  necessity,  the  high- 
est necessity,  your  own  necessity,  able  to  make  you  cast 
away  your  sins,  and  take  up  a  holy  and  heavenly  life? 
O  poor  souls !  is  there  a  greater  necessity  of  your  sin  than 
of  your  salvation,  and  of  pleasing  your  flesh  for  a  little 
time  than  of  pleasing  the  Lord  and  escaping  everlasting 
misery  ?"  0  that  you  Avould  consider  what  I  say !  and  the 
Lord  give  you  understanding  in  all  things.     Amen. 


•»♦» 


XVI. 

SAINTS  SAVED  WITH  DIFFICULTY,  AND  THE  CERTAIN 
PERDITION  OF  SINNERS. 

"  And  if  the  righteous  scarcely  be  saved,  where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the 
sinner  appear?"—!  Peter,  iv.  18. 

This  text  may  sound  in  your  ears  like  a  message  from 
the  dead ;  for  it  is  at  the  request  of  our  deceased  friend* 

*  The  person  was   Mr.  James  Hooper  ;  the  sermon  is  dated  August, 
21,  1756. 


THE    CERTAIN    PERDITION    OF   SINNERS.  169 

tliat  I  now  insist  upon  it.  He  knew  so  mucli  from  the 
trials  he  made  in  hfe,  that  if  he  should  be  saved  at  all,  it 
would  be  with  great  difficulty,  and  if  he  should  escape 
destruction  at  all,  it  would  be  a  very  narrow  escape ;  and 
he  also  knew  so  much  of  this  stupid,  careless  world,  that 
they  stood  in  need  of  a  solemn  warning  on  this  head ;  and 
therefore  desired  that  his  death  should  give  occasion  to  a 
sermon  on  this  alarming  subject.  But  now  the  unknown 
wonders  of  the  invisible  world  lie  open  to  his  eyes;  and 
now  also  he  can  take  a  full  review  of  this  passage  through 
this  mortal  life ;  now  he  sees  the  many  unsuspected  dangers 
he  narrowly  escaped,  and  the  many  fiery  darts  of  the  devil 
which  the  shield  of  faith  repelled ;  now,  like  a  ship  arrived 
at  port  he  reviews  the  rocks  and  shoals  he  passed  through, 
many  of  which  lay  under  water  and  out  of  sight;  and  there- 
fore now  he  is  more  fully  acquainted  with  the  difficulty 
of  salvation  than  ever.  And  should  he  now  rise  and  make 
his  appearance  in  this  assembly  in  the  solemn  and  dreadful 
attire  of  an  inhabitant  of  the  world  of  spirits,  and  again 
direct  me  to  a  more  proper  subject,  methinks  he  would  still 
stand  to  his  choice,  and  propose  it  to  your  serious  thoughts, 
that  if  the  righteous  scarcely  he  saved,  where  shall  the  ungodly 
and  the  sinner  appear. 

The  apostle's  principal  design  in  the  context  seems  to  be 
to  prepare  the  Christians  for  those  sufferings  which  he  saw 
coming  upon  them,  on  account  of  their  religion.  Tliem 
that  obey  not  the  gospel  of  God,  is  a  description  of  the  unbe- 
lieving Jews,  to  whom  it  was  peculiarly  applicable.  But 
I  see  no  reason  for  confining  the  apostle's  view  entirely 
to  the  temporal  destruction  of  the  Jews ;  he  seems  to  refer 
further  to  that  still  more  terrible  destruction  that  awaits  all 
that  obey  not  the  gospel  in  the  eternal  world ;  that  is  to 
say,  if  the  children  are  so  severely  chastised  in  this  world, 
what  shall  become  of  rebels  in  the  world  to  come,  the 
proper  state  of  retribution  ?  How  much  more  tremendous 
must  be  their  fate ! 

In  the  text  he  carries  on  the  same  reflection.  If  the 
righteous  scarcely  he  saved,  lohere  shall  the  ungodly  and  the 
sinner  appear.  The  righteous  is  the  common  character  or 
all  good  men  or  true  Christians;  and  the  ungodly  and 
sinners  are  characters  which  may  include  the  wicked  of  all 
nations  and  ages.  Now,  says  he,  "if  the  righteous  be  but 
scarcely  saved,  saved  with  great  difficulty,  just  saved  and 

15 


170  SAINTS   SAVED    WITH   DIFFICULTY,    AND 

no  more,  where  shall  the  idolaters  and  vicious  sinners  ap- 
pear, whose  characters  are  so  opposite  ?" 

The  abrupt  and  pungent  form  of  expression  is  very  em- 
phatical.  Where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear  F 
I  need  not  tell  you,  your  own  reason  will  inform  you :  I 
appeal  to  yourselves  for  an  answer,  for  you  are  all  capable 
of  determining  upon  so  plain  a  case.  Where  shall  the  un- 
godly and  the  sinner  appear  ?  Alas !  it  strikes  me  dumb  • 
with  horror  to  think  of  it ;  it  is  so  shocking  and  terrible 
that  I  cannot  bear  to  describe  it.  Now  they  are  gay,  merry, 
and  rich  ;  but  when  I  look  a  little  forward,  I  see  them  ap- 
pear in  very  different  circumstances,  and  the  horror  of  the 
prospect  is  hardly  supportable. 

The  method  in  which  I  intend  to  prosecute  our  subject 
is  this : 

I.  I  shall  point  out  the  principal  difficulties  which  even 
the  righteous  meet  with  in  the  way  to  salvation. 

II.  I  shall  mention  those  things  in  the  condition  and 
character  of  the  righteous,  which  render  his  salvation  so 
promising  and  seemingly  easy,  and  then  show  you  that^  if 
with  all  these  favorable  and  hopeful  circumstances  he  is 
not  saved  but  with  great  difficulty  and  danger,  those  who 
are  of  an  opposite  character,  and  whose  condition  is  so  evi- 
dently and  apparently  desperate,  cannot  be  saved  at  all. 

I.  I  am  to  point  out  the  principal  difficulties  which  even 
the  righteous  meet  with  in  the  way  to  salvation. 

Here  I  would  premise,  that  such  who  have  become  truly 
religious,  and  persevered  in  the  way  of  holiness  and  virtue 
to  the  last,  will  meet  with  no  difficulty  at  all  to  be  admitted 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  The  difficulty  does  not  lie  here, 
for  the  same  apostle  Peter  assures  us,  that  if  we  give  all 
diligence  to  'make  our  calling  and  election  sure,  we  shall  never 
fall ;  but  50  an  entrance  shall  he  administered  unto  us  abun- 
dantly into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ. — 2  Peter,  i.  10,  11.  But  the  difficulty  lies  in 
this,  that,  all  things  considered,  it  is  a  very  difficult  thing  to 
obtain,  and  persevere  in  real  religion  in  the  present  corrupt 
state  of  things,  where  we  meet  with  so  many  temptations 
and  such  powerful  opposition.  Or,  in  other  woixls,  it  is 
difficult  in  such  a  world  as  this  to  prepare  for  salvation ; 
and  this  renders  it  difficult  to  be  saved,  because  we  cannot 
be  saved  without  preparation. 

The  enemies  that  oppose  our  religious  progress  are  the 


THE    CERTATX    PERDITION    OF    SINNERS.  171 

devil,  tlie  world,  and  the  flesh.  These  form  a  powerful 
alliance  against  our  salvation,  and  leave  no  artifice  untried 
to  obtain  it. 

The  things  of  the  world,  though  good  in  themselves,  are 
temptations  to  such  depraved  hearts  as  ours.  Riches,  hon- 
ors, and  pleasures  spread  their  charms,  and  tempt  us  to  the 
pursuit  of  flying  shadows,  to  the  neglect  of  the  one  thing 
needful.  These  engross  the  thoughts  and  concerns,  the  affec- 
tions and  labors  of  multitudes.  They  engage  with  such 
eagerness  in  an  excessive  hurry  of  business  and  anxious 
care,  or  so  debauch  and  stupefy  themselves  with  sensual 
pleasures,  that  the  voice  of  G-od  is  not  heard,  the  clamors 
of  conscience  are  drowned,  the  state  of  their  souls  is  not 
inquired  into,  the  interests  of  eternity  are  forgotten,  the 
eternal  God,  the  joys  of  heaven,  and  the  pains  of  hell  are 
cast  out  of  the  mind  and  disregarded ;  and  they  care  not 
for  any  or  all  of  these  important  realities,  if  they  can  but 
gratify  the  lust  of  avarice,  ambition,  and  sensuality.  And 
are  such  likely  to  perform  the  arduous  work  of  salvation? 
'No ;  they  do  not  so  much  as  seriously  attempt  it.  Now 
these  things,  which  are  fatal  to  multitudes,  throw  great  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  even  of  the  righteous  man.  He  finds  it 
hard  to  keep  his  mind  intent  upon  this  great  concern  in 
the  midst  of  such  labors  and  cares  he  is  obliged  to  engage 
in ;  and  frequently  he  feels  his  heart  estranged  from  God 
and  ensnared  into  the  ways  of  sin,  his  devotion  cooled, 
and  his  whole  soul  disordered  by  these  allurements.  In 
short,  he  finds  it  one  of  the  hardest  things  in  the  world  to 
maintain  a  heavenly  mind  in  such  an  earthly  region,  a 
spiritual  temper  among  so  many  carnal  objects. 

But  the  greatest  difficulty  in  our. way  arises  from  the  cor- 
ruption and  wickedness  of  our  own  hearts.  This  is  an  ene- 
my within ;  and  it  is  that  betrays  us  into  the  hands  of  our 
enemies  without.  When  we  turn  our  eyes  to  this  quarter, 
what  vast  difficulties  rise  in  our  way !  difficulties  which  are 
impossibilities  to  us,  unless  the  Almighty  Power  enables  us 
to  surmount  them.  Such  are  a  blind  mind,  ignorant  of  di- 
vine things,  or  that  can  speculate  only  upon  them,  but  does 
not  see  their  reality  and  dread  importance  ,•  a  mind  empty 
of  G-od  and  full  of  the  lumber  and  vanities  of  this  world. 
Such  are  a  hard  heart,  insensible  of  sin,  insensible  of  the 
glory  of  God,  and  the  beauties  of  holiness,  and  the  infinite 
moment  of  eternal  things.     And  how  strangely  does  this 


172  SAINTS  SAVED  WITH   DIFFICULTY,    AND 

inward  corruption  indispose  men  for  religion !  Hence 
tlieir  ignorance,  their  security,  carelessness,  presumptuous 
hopes,  and  impenitence.  Hence  their  unwillingness  to  ad- 
mit conviction,  their  resistance  to  the  Holy  Spirit  and  their 
own  consciences,  their  love  of  ease  and  impatience  of 
sorrow  for  sin,  and  of  solicitude  about  their  eternal  state. 
Hence  their  contempt  of  the  gospel,  their  disregard  to  all 
religious  instructions,  their  neglect  of  the  means  of  grace, 
and  the  ordinances  of  Christ,  or  their  careless,  formal, 
lukewarm  attendance  upon  them.  Hence  it  is  so  difficult 
to  awaken  them  to  a  just  sense  of  their  spiritual  condition, 
and  to  suitable  earnestness  in  their  religious  endeavors ; 
and  hence  their  fickleness  and  inconstancy,  their  relapses 
and  backslidings,  when  they  have  been  a  little  alarmed. 
In  short,  hence  it  is  that  so  many  thousands  perish  amidst 
the  means  of  salvation.  These  difficulties  prove  eventu- 
ally insuperable  to  the  generality,  and  they  never  surmount 
them.  But  even  the  righteous,  who  is  daily  conquering 
them  by  the  aid  of  divine  grace,  and  will  at  last  be  more 
than  a  conqueror,  he  still  finds  many  hinderances  and  dis- 
couragements from  this  quarter.  The  remains  of  these  in- 
nate corruptions  still  cleave  to  him  in  the  present  state, 
and  these  render  his  progress  heavenward  so  slow  and 
heavy.  These  render  his  life  a  constant  warfare,  and  he 
is  obliged  to  fight  his  way  through.  These  frequently 
check  the  aspirations  of  his  soul  to  God,  cool  his  devotion, 
damp  his  courage,  ensnare  his  thoughts  and  affections  to 
things  below,  and  expose  him  to  the  successful  attacks  of 
temptation.  And  such  of  you  as  do  not  know  this  by  ex- 
perience, know  nothing  at  all  of  true  experimental  Christi- 
anity. 

See,  my  brethren,  see'the  way  in  which  you  must  walk 
if  you  would  enter  into  the  kingdom.  In  this  rugged  road 
they  have  walked  who  are  now  safe  arrived  at  their  jour- 
ney's end,  the  land  of  rest.  They  were  saved,  but  it  was 
with  great  difficulty;  they  escaped  the  fatal  rocks  and 
shoals,  but  it  was  a  very  narrow  escape :  and  methinks  it 
is  with  a  kind  of  pleasing  horror  they  now  review  the  nu- 
merous dangers  through  which  they  passed,  many  of  which 
they  did  not  perhaps  suspect  till  they  were  over.  And  is 
this  the  way  in  which  you  are  walking  ?  Is  your  religion 
a  course  of  watchfulness,  labor,  conflict,  and  vigorous  ex- 
ertion ?     Are  you  indeed  earnest  in  it  above  all  things  in 


THE   CERTAIN"   PERDITION   OF   SINNERS.  173 

tliis  world  ?  Or  are  not  many  of  you  lukewarm  Laocliceans 
and  indifferent  Gallios  about  these  things  ?  If  your  religion 
is  a  course  of  security,  carelessness,  sloth,  and  formality ; 
alas !  if  all  the  vigor  and  exertion  of  the  righteous  man 
be  but  just  sufficient  for  his  salvation,  where,  O  where 
shall  you  appear  ?     Which  leads  me, 

II.  To  mention  those  things  in  the  character  and  condi- 
tion of  the  righteous,  which  renders  his  salvation  so  prom- 
ising and  seemingly  easy,  and  then  show  that  if  with  all 
those  hopeful  circumstances  he  shall  not  be  saved  but  with 
great  difficulty,  that  they  whose  character  is  directly  oppo- 
site, and  has  nothing  encouraging  in  it,  cannot  possibly  be 
saved  at  all.  And  this  head  I  shall  cast  into  such  a  form 
as  to  exemplify  the  text. 

1.  If  those  that  abstain  from  immorality  and  vice  be  but 
scarcely  saved,  where  shall  the  vicious,  profligate  sinner 
appear  ? 

It  is  the  habitual  character  of  a  righteous  man  to  be 
temperate  and  sober,  chaste,  just,  and  charitable ;  to  revere 
the  name  of  God,  and  every  thing  sacred,  and  religiously 
observe  the  holy  hours  devoted  to  the  service  of  God. 
And  if  such  shall  scarcely  be  saved,  where  shall  those  of 
the  opposite  character  appear?  Where  shall  the  brute  of 
a  drunkard,  the  audacious  swearer,  the  scoffer,  the  thief, 
the  extortioner,  the  liar,  the  Sabbath-breaker,  the  reveler, 
where  shall  those  appear  ?  Are  these  likely  to  stand  in 
the  congregation  of  the  righteous,  or  to  appear  in  the  pres- 
ence of  God  with  joy  ?  Is  there  the  least  likelihood  that 
such  shall  be  saved  ?  If  you  will  regard  the  authority  of 
an  inspired  apostle  in  the  case,  I  can  direct  you  to  the 
place  where  you  may  find  his  express  determination.  1  Cor. 
vi.  9,  10 :  Know  ye  7iot  that  the  unrighteous  shall  not  inherit 
the  kingdoyn  of  Ood  !  Be  not  deceived ;  neither  fornicators, 
nor  adidterers,  nor  abusers  of  themselves  ivith  mankind,  nor 
thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  extortion- 
ers, shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  Ood. 

2.  If  those  that  conscientiously  performed  the  duties  of 
religion  be  scarcely  saved,  where  shall  the  neglecters  of 
them  appear  ? 

The  righteous  are  characterized  as  persons  that  honestly 
endeavor  to  perform  all  the  duties  they  owe  to  God.  They 
devoutly  read  and  hear  his  word,  and  make  divine  things 
their  study ;  they  are  no  strangers  to  the  throne  of  grace ; 

15* 


174  SAINTS  SAVED  WITH   DIFFICULTY,   AND 

they  live  a  life  of  prayer  in  their  retirements,  and  in  a  so- 
cial capacity.  They  make  their  families  little  churches,  in 
which  divine  worship  is  solemnly  performed.  Now  if  per- 
sons of  this  character  are  but  scarcely  saved,  where  shall  the 
ungodly  appear,  who  persist  in  the  willful  neglect  of  these 
known  duties  of  religion  ?  Can  they  be  saved,  who  do 
not  so  much  as  use  the  means  of  salvation  ?  Can  those 
who  do  not  study  their  Bible,  the  only  directory  to  eternal 
life,  expect  to  find  the  way  thither  ?  Can  prayerless  souls 
receive  answers  to  prayer  ?  Will  all  the  bliss  of  heaven 
be  thrown  away  upon  such  as  do  not  think  it  worth  their 
while  importunately  to  ask  it  ? 

3.  If  they  that  are  more  than  externally  moral  and  re- 
ligious in  their  conduct ;  that  have  been  born  again,  created 
in  Christ  Jesus  to  good  works,  as  every  man  that  is  truly 
righteous  has  been ;  if  such,  I  say,  be  but  scarcely  saved, 
where  shall  they  appear  who  rest  in  their  mere  outward 
morality,  their  proud  self-righteous  virtue,  and  their  reli- 
gious formalities,  and  have  never  been  made  new  creatures, 
never  had  the  inward  principle  of  action  changed  by  the 
power  of  God,  and  the  inbred  disorders  of  the  heart  recti- 
fied ?  Where  shall  they  appear  who  have  nothing  but  a 
self-sprung  religion,  the  genuine  offspring  of  degenerate 
nature,  and  never  had  a  supernatural  principle  of  grace  im- 
planted in  their  souls  ?  Can  men  flatter  themselves  they 
shall  be  saved  by  the  Christian  religion,  in  opposition  to 
the  plain,  strong,  and  repeated  declarations  of  the  Christian 
revelation  ? 

4.  If  they  that  are  striving  to  enter  in  at  the  strait 
gate,  and  pressing  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  do  but  just 
obtain  admission ;  if  they  who  forget  things  that  are  be- 
hind, and  reach  after  those  that  are  before,  and  press  with 
all  their  might  towards  the  goal,  do  scarcely  obtain  the 
prize,  what  shall  become  of  those  lukewarm,  careless,  for- 
mal, presumptuous  professors  of  Christianity  who  are  so  nu- 
merous among  us  ?  If  those  whose  hearts  are  habitually 
solicitous  about  their  eternal  state,  who  labor  in  earnest 
for  the  immortal  bread,  who  in  short  make  the  care  of 
their  souls  the  principal  business  of  their  life,  if  such  are 
but  scarcely  saved,  where  shall  they  appear  who  are  at  ease 
in  Zion  ? 

I  shall  now  conclude  with  a  few  reflections.     1.  You 
may  hence  see  the  work  of  salvation  is  not  that  easy,  tri- 


THE   CERTAIN^   PERDITION   OF   SINNERS.  175 

fling  tiling  which  many  take  it  to  be.  They  think  they 
can  never  be  too  much  in  earnest,  or  too  laborious  in  the 
pursuit  of  earthly  things ;  but  religion  is  a  matter  by  the 
by  with  them ;  only  the  business  of  an  hour  once  a  week : 
this  is  not  the  religion  of  the  Bible :  this  is  not  the  way  to 
life  laid  out  by  God,  but  it  is  the  smooth  downward  road 
to  destruction.     Therefore, 

2.  Examine  yourselves  to  which  class  you  belong, 
whether  to  that  of  the  righteous,  who  shall  be  saved, 
though  with  dif&culty,  or  to  that  of  the  ungodly  and  the 
sinner,  who  must  appear  in  a  very  different  situation.  To 
determine  this  important  inquiry,  recollect  the  sundry  parts 
of  the  righteous  man's  character  which  I  have  briefly 
described,  and  see  Avhether  they  belong  to  you.  Do  you 
carefully  abstain  from  vice  and  immorality  ?  Do  you  make 
conscience  of  every  duty  of  religion?  Have  you.  ever 
been  born  again  of  God,  and  made  more  than  externally 
religious?  Are  you  sensible  of  the  difficulties  in  your 
way  from  Satan,  the  world,  and  the  flesh  ?  Do  you  work 
out  your  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  and  press  into 
the  kingdom  of  God?  Are  you  true  believers,  penitents, 
and  lovers  of  God  ?  Are  these,  on  the  contrary,  the  con- 
stituents of  your  habitual  character  ?  I  pray  you  make  an 
impartial  trial,  for  much  depends  upon  it. 

3.  If  this  be  your  habitUeT-1  character,  be  of  good  cheer, 
for  you  shall  be  saved,  though  with  difficulty.  Be  not  dis- 
couraged when  you  fall  into  fiery  trials,  for  they  are  no 
strange  things  in  the  present  state.  All  that  have  walked 
in  the  same  narrow  road  before  you  have  met  with  them, 
but  now  they  are  safe  arrived  in  their  eternal  home.  Let 
your  dependence  be  upon  the  aids  of  divine  grace  to  bear 
you  through,  and  you  will  overcome  at  last.     But, 

4.  If  your  character  be  that  of  the  ungodly  and  the  sin- 
ner, pause  and  think  where  shall  you  appear  at  last ! 
When,  like  our  deceased  friend,  you  leave  this  mortal  state, 
and  launch  into  regions  unknown,  where  will  you  then  ap- 
pear? Must  it  be  in  the  region  of  sin,  which  is  your 
element  now  ?  in  the  society  of  devils,  whom  you  resem- 
ble in  temper,  and  imitate  in  conduct  ?  among  the  trem- 
bling criminals  at  the  left  hand  of  the  Judge,  where  the 
ungodly  and  sinners  shall  all  be  crowded  ?  If  you  con- 
tinue such  as  yo'u  now  are,  have  you  any  reason  at  all  to 
hope  for  a  more  favorable  doom  ? 


176  INDIFFEKENCE   TO   LIFE    UKGED 

I  shall  conclude  with  a  reflection  to  exemplify  the  con- 
text in  another  view,  and  that  is,  "If  judgment  begin  at 
the  house  of  God,  what  shall  be  the  end  of  them  that  obey 
not  the  gospel  ?"  If  the  righteous,  the  favorites  of  Heaven, 
suffer  so  much  in  this  world,  what  shall  sinners,  with  whom 
God  is  angry  every  day,  and  who  are  vessels  of  wrath 
fitted  for  destruction,  what  shall  they  suffer  in  the  eternal 
world,  the  proper  place  for  rewards  and  punishments,  and 
where  an  equitable  Providence  deals  with  every  man  ac- 
cording to  his  works  ?  If  the  children  are  chastised  with 
various  calamities,  and  even  die  in  common  with  the  rest 
of  mankind,  what  shall  be  the  doom  of  enemies  and  rebels  ? 
If  those  meet  with  so  many  difficulties  in  the  pursuit  of 
salvation,  what  shall  these  suffer  in  enduring  damnation  ? 
If  the  infernal  powers  are  permitted  to  wrong  Christ's 
sheep,  how  will  they  rend  and  tear  the  wicked  as  their 
proper  prey  ?  O  that  you  may  in  this  your  day  know  the 
things  that  helong  to  'your  peace,  before  they  are  for  ever  hid 
from  your  eyes. — Luke,  xix.  42. 


■■♦♦♦• 


XVII. 

INDIFFERENCE  TO  LIFE  URGED  FROM  ITS  SHORTNESS  AND 

VANITY. 

"  But  this  I  say,  brethren,  the  time  is  short :  it  remaineth,  tliat  both  they  that 
have  wives  be  as  though  they  had  none ;  and  they  that  weep,  as  though 
they  wept  not ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;  and 
they  that  buy,  as  though  they  possessed  not ;  and  tliey  that  use  this 
world,  as  not  abusing  it :  for  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away." — 
1  Gor.  vii.  29-31. 

A  CREATURE,  treading  every  moment  upon  the  slippery 
brink  of  the  grave,  and  ready  every  moment  to  shoot  the 
gulf  of  eternity,  and  launch  away  to  some  unknown  coast, 
ought  to  stand  always  in  the  posture  of  serious  expectation ; 
ought  every  day  to  be  in  his  own  mind  taking  leave  of 
this  world,  breaking  off  the  connection  of  his  heart  from  it, 
and  preparing  for  his  last  remove  into  that  world  in  which 
he  must  reside,  not  for  a  few  months,  or  years,  as  in  this, 
but  through  a  boundless,  everlasting  duration      Such  a 


FKOM   ITS  SHORTNESS   AND   VANITY.  177 

situation  requires  habitual,  constant  thoughtfulness,  ab- 
straction from  the  world,  and  serious  preparation  for  death 
and  eternity.  But  when  we  are  called,  as  we  frequently 
are,  to  perform  the  last  sad  offices  to  our  friends  and 
neighbors  who  have  taken  their  flight  a  little  before  us ; 
when  the  solemn  pomp  and  horrors  of  death  strike  our 
senses,  then  certainly  it  becomes  us  to  be  usually  thought- 
ful and  serious.  Dying  beds,  the  last  struggles  and  groans 
of  dissolving  nature,  pale,  cold,  ghastly  corpses, 

"  The  knell,  the  shroud,  the  mattock,  and  the  grave  ; 
The  deep,  damp  vault,  the  darkness  and  the  worm ;" 

these  are  very  alarming  monitors  of  our  own  mortalitv ; 
these  out-preach  the  loudest  preacher ;  and  they  must  be 
deep  and  senseless  rocks,  and  not  men,  who  do  not  hear 
and  feel  their  voice.  Among  the  numberless  instances  of 
the  divine  skill  in  bringing  good  out  of  evil,  this  is  one, 
that  past  generations  have  sickened  and  died  to  warn  their 
successors.  One  here  and  there,  also,  is  singled  out  of  our 
neighborhood  or  families,  and  made  an  example,  a  ineraento 
viori^  to  us  that  survive,  to  rouse  us  out  of  our  stupid 
sleep,  to  give  us  the  signal  of  the  approach  of  the  last 
enemy,  death ;  to  constrain  us  to  let  go  our  eager  grasp  of 
this  vain  world,  and  set  us  upon  looking  out  and  preparing 
for  another. 

One  great  reason  of  men's  excessive  attachment  to  the 
present  state,  and  their  stupid  neglect  to  the  concerns  of 
eternity,  is  their  forming  too  high  an  estimate  of  the  affairs 
of  time  in  comparison  with  those  of  eternity.  While  the 
important  realities  of  the  eternal  world  are  out  of  view, 
unthought  of,  and  disregarded,  as,  alas!  they  generally 
are  by  the  most  of  mankind,  what  mighty  things  in  their 
esteem  are  the  relations,  the  joys  and  sorrows,  the  posses- 
sions and  bereavements,  the  acquisitions  of  this  life  ?  What 
airs  of  importance  do  they  put  on  in  their  view?  How  do 
they  engross  their  anxious  thoughts  and  cares,  and  exhaust 
their  strength  and  spirits !  To  be  happy,  to  be  rich,  to 
be  great  and  honorable,  to  enjoy  your  fill  of  pleasure 
in  this  world,  is  not  this  a  great  matter,  the  main  in- 
terest with  many  of  you  ?  is  not  this  the  object  of  your 
ambition,  your  eager  desire  and  laborious  pursuit?  But 
to  consume  away  your  life  in  sickness  and  pain,  in  poverty 
and  disgrace,  in  abortive  schemes  and  disappointed  pursuits, 


178  INDIFFERENCE   TO   LIFE   URGED 

what  a  serious  calamity,  wliat  a  huge  affliction  is  this  in 
your  esteem  ?  What  is  there  in  the  compass  of  the  uni- 
verse that  you  are  so  much  afraid  of,  and  so  cautiously 
shunning  ?  Whether  large  profits  or  losses  in  trade  be  not 
a  mighty  matter,  ask  the  busy,  anxious  merchant.  Whether 
poverty  be  not  a  most  miserable  state,  ask  the  poor  that 
feel  it,  and  the  rich  that  fear  it.  Whether  riches  be  not  a 
very  important  happiness,  ask  the  possessors;  or  rather 
ask  the  restless  pursuers  of  them,  who  expect  still  greater 
happiness  from  them  than  those  that  are  taiight  by  experi- 
ence can  flatter  themselves  with.  In  short,  it  is  evident, 
from  a  thousand  instances,  that  the  enjoyments,  pursuits, 
and  sorrows  of  this  life  are  mighty  matters !  nay,  are  all 
in  all  in  the  esteem  of  the  generality  of  mankind.  These 
are  the  things  they  most  deeply  feel,  the  things  about  which 
they  are  chiefly  concerned,  and  which  are  the  objects  of 
their  strongest  passions. 

But  this  a  just  estimate  of  things?  Are  the  affairs  of 
this  world  then  indeed  so  interesting  and  all  important  ? 
Yes,  if  eternity  be  a  dream,  and  heaven  and  hell  but  ma- 
jestic chimeras  or  fairy  lands ;  if  we  were  always  to  live 
in  this  world,  and  no  concern  with  any  thing  beyond  it ; 
if  the  joys  of  earth  were  the  highest  we  could  hope  for,  or 
its  miseries  the  most  terrible  we  could  fear,  then  indeed  we 
might  take  this  Avorld  for  our  all,  and  regard  its  affairs  as 
the  most  important  that  our  nature  is  capable  of.  But  this 
I  say,  brethren,  (and  I  pronounce  it  as  the  echo  of  an  in- 
spired apostle's  voice,)  this  I  say,  the  time  {s  short:  the  time 
of  life  in  which  we  have  any  thing  to  do  with  these  affairs 
is  a  short,  contracted  span.  Therefore,  it  remaineth,  that  is, 
this  is  the  inference  we  should  draw  from  the  shortness  of 
time,  tltey  that  have  ivives,  he  as  though  they  had  none ;  and 
they  that  weep,  as  thoiujh  they  wept  not ;  and  they  that  rejoice, 
as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;  and  they  that  buy,  as  though  they 
jjossessed  not ;  and  they  that  use  this  ivorld  as  not  abusing  it, 
or  using  it  to  excess  ;  for  the  fashion  of  this  world,  these  tender 
relations,  this  weeping  and  rejoicing,  this  buying,  possess- 
ing and  using  this  world  passeth  away. 

The  phantom  will  soon  vanish,  the  shadow  will  soon  fly 
off,  and  they  that  have  wives  or  husbands  in  this  transitory 
life,  will  in  reality  be  as  though  they  had  none ;  and  they 
that  weep  now,  as  though  they  wept  not ;  and  they  that 
now  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not;  and  they  that 


FROM  ITS  SHORTNESS  AND  VANITY.       179 

now  buy,  possess,  and  use  this  world,  as  though  they  never 
had  the  least  property  in  it.  This  is  the  solemn,  mortify- 
ing doctrine  I  am  now  to  inculcate  upon  you  in  the  further 
illustration  of  the  several  parts  of  my  text;  a  doctrine 
justly  alarming  to  the  lovers  of  this  world,  and  the  neg- 
lecters  of  that  life  which  is  to  come.  When  St.  Paul  pro- 
nounces any  thing  with  an  unusual  air  of  solemnity  and 
authority,  and  after  the  formality  of  an  introduction  to 
gain  attention,  it  must  be  a  matter  of  uncommon  weight 
and  worthy  of  the  most  serious  regard.  In  this  manner 
he  introduces  the  funeral  sentiments  in  my  text.  TJds  I 
say,  brethren ;  this  I  solemnly  pronounce  as  the  mouth  of 
God ;  this  I  declare  as  a  .great  truth  but  little  regarded, 
and  which,  therefore,  there  is  much  need  I  should  repeat- 
edly declare ;  this  I  say  with  all  the  authority  of  an  apos- 
tle, a  messenger  from  heaven ;  and  I  demand  your  sincere 
attention  to  what  I  am  going  to  say. 

And  what  is  it  he  is  introducing  with  all  this  solemn 
formality  ?  Why,  it  is  an  old,  plain,  familiar  truth,  uni- 
versally known  and  confessed,  namely,  that  the  time  of  our 
continuance  in  this  world  is  short.  But  why  so  much 
formality  in  introducing  such  a  common  plain  truth  as  this? 
Because,  however  generally  it  be  known  and  confessed, .  it 
is  very  rarely  regarded ;  and  it  requires  more  than  even 
the  most  solemn  address  of  an  apostle  to  turn  the  attention 
of  a  thoughtless  world  to  it.  How  many  of  you,  my  breth- 
ren, are  convinced  against  your  wills  of  this  melancholy 
truth,  and  yet  turn  every  way  to  avoid  the  mortifying 
thought,  are  always  uneasy  when  it  forces  itself  upon  your 
minds,  and  do  not  suffer  it  to  have  a  proper  influence  upon 
your  temper  and  practice  ;  but  live  as  if  you  believed  the 
time  of  life  was  long  and  even  everlasting  ?  O !  when 
will  the  happy  hour  come  when  you  will  think  and  act 
like  those  that  believe  that  common  uncontroverted  truth, 
that  the  time  of  life  is  short !  Then  you  would  no  longer 
think  of  delays,  nor  contrive  artifices  to  put  off  the  work 
of  your  salvation ;  then  you  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  such  negligent,  or  languid,  feeble  endeavors  in  a  work 
that  must  be  done,  and  that  in  so  short  a  time. 

This  I  say,  my  hrethren,  the  time  is  short ;  the  time  of  life 
is  absolutely  short ;  a  span,  an  inch,  a  hair's  breadth.  How 
near  the  neighborhood  between  the  cradle  and  the  grave ! 
How  short  the  journey  from  infancy  to  old  age,  through 


IbO  INDIFFEKEKCE   TO   LIFE    URGED 

all  the  intermediate  stages !  Let  the  few  among  you  who 
bear  the  marks  of  old  age  upon  you  in  gray  hairs,  wrinkles, 
weakness,  and  pains  look  back  upon  your  tiresome  pil- 
grimage through  life,  and  does  it  not  appear  to  you,  as 
though  you  commenced  men  but  yesterday  ? 

And  how  strongly  does  the  shortness  of  this  life  prove 
the  certainty  of  another  ?  Certainly  this  is  not  the  last  stage 
of  human  nature ;  certainly  there  is  an  eternity ;  there  is 
a  heaven  and  a  hell: — otherwise  we  might  expostulate 
with  our  Maker,  as  David  once  did  upon  that  supposition, 
Wherefore  hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain  f 

In  that  awful  eternity  we  must  all  be  in  a  short  time. 
Yes,  my  brethren,  I  may  venture^  to  prophesy  that  in  less 
than  seventy  or  eighty  years  the  most,  if  not  all  of  this 
assembly,  must  be  in  some  apartment  of  that  strange,  un- 
tried world.  The  merry,  unthinking,  irreligious  multitude 
in  that  doleful  mansion  which  I  must  mention,  grating  as 
the  sound  is  to  their  ears,  and  that  is  hell !  and  the  pious, 
penitent,  believing  few  in  the  blissful  seats  of  heaven. 
There  we  shall  reside  a  long,  long  time  indeed,  or  rather 
through  a  long,  endless  eternity.     Which  leads  me  to  add, 

That  as  the  time  of  life  is  short  absolutely  in  itself,  so 
especially  it  is  short  comparatively ;  that  is,  in  comparison 
with  eternity.  In  this  comparison,  even  the  long  life  of 
Methuselah  and  the  antediluvians  shrink  into  a  mere  point, 
a  nothing.  Indeed,  no  duration  of  time,  however  long, 
will  bear  the  comparison.  Millions  of  millions  of  years ! 
as  many  years  as  sands  upon  the  sea-shore !  as  many  years 
as  the  particles  of  matter  in  the  whole  material  universe, 
all  these  years  do  not  bear  so  much  proportion  to  eternity 
as  a  moment,  a  pulse,  or  the  twinkling  of  an  ej^e,  to  ten 
thousand  ages !  not  so  much  as  a  hair's  breadth  to  the  dis- 
tance from  the  spot  where  we  stand  to  the  farthest  star,  or 
the  remotest  corner  of  the  creation.  In  short,  they  do  not 
bear  the  least  imaginable  proportion  at  all ;  for  all  this 
length  of  years,  though  beyond  the  power  of  distinct 
enumeration  to  us,  will  as  certainly  come  to  an  end  as  an 
hour  or  a  moment ;  and  when  it  comes  to  an  end,  it  is  en- 
tirely and  irrecoverably  past :  but  eternity,  (O  the  solemn 
tremendous  sound !)  eternity  will  never,  never,  never  come 
to  an  end  !  eternity  will  never,  never,  never  be  past  1  And 
is  this  eternity,  this  awful,  all-important  eternity,  entailed 
upon  us !  upon  us,  the  oflspring  of  the  dust !  the  creatures 


FROM   ITS   SHORTNESS   AND   VANITY.  181 

of  yesterday !  upon  us  who  are  every  moment  liable  to  the 
arrest  of  death,  sinking  into  the  grave,  and  mouldering 
into  dust  one  after  another  in  quick  succession !  upon  us 
whose  thoughts,  and  cares,  and  pursuits  are  so  confined  to 
time  and  earth,  as  if  we  had  nothing  to  do  with  any  thing 
beyond  I  O !  is  this  immense  inheritance  unalienably  ours  ? 
Yes,  brethren,  it  is ;  reason  and  revelation  prove  our  title 
beyond  all  dispute.  It  is  an  inheritance  entailed  upon  us, 
whether  we  will  or  not.  Sin  may  make  our  souls  misera- 
ble, but  it  cannot  make  them  mortal.  Sin  may  forfeit  a 
happy  eternity,  and  render  our  immortality  a  curse;  so 
that  it  would  be  better  for  us  if  we  never  had  been  born : 
but  sin  cannot  put  an  end  to  our  being,  as  it  can  to  our 
happiness,  nor  procure  for  us  the  shocking  relief  of  rest  in 
the  hideous  gulf  of  annihilation. 

And  is  a  little  time,  a  few  months  or  years,  a  great  mat- 
ter to  us  ?  to  us  who  are  heirs  of  an  eternal  duration  ? 
How  insignificant  is  a  moment  in  seventy  or  eighty  years ! 
but  how  much  more  insignificant  is  even  the  longest  life 
upon  earth  when  compared  Avith  eternity !  How  trifling 
are  all  the  concerns  of  time  to  those  of  immortality! 
What  is  it  to  us  who  are  to  live  for  ever,  whether  we  live 
happy  or  miserable  for  an  hour?  whether  we  have  wives, 
or  whether  we  have  none ;  whether  we  rejoice,  or  whether 
we  weep ;  whether  we  buy,  possess,  and  use  this  world,  or 
whether  we  consume  away  our  life  in  hunger  and  naked- 
ness, and  the  want  of  all  things,  it  will  be  all  one  in  a  little, 
little  time.  Eternity  will  level  all ;  and  eternity  is  at  the 
door. 

And  how  shall  we  spend  this  eternal  duration  that  is 
thus  entailed  upon  us  ?  Shall  we  sleep  it  away  in  a  stupid 
insensibility,  or  in  a  state  of  indifference,^  neither  happy 
nor  miserable  ?  No,  no,  my  brethren  ;  we  must  spend  it 
in  the  height  of  happiness  or  in  the  depth  of  misery. 
This  is  not  the  place  of  rewards  or  punishments,  and 
therefore  the  great  Euler  of  the  world  does  not  exert  his 
perfections  in  the  distribution  of  either;  but  eternity  is 
allotted  for  that  very  purpose,  and  therefore  he  will  then 
distribute  rewards  or  punishments  worthy  himself,  such  as 
will  proclaim  him  God  in  acts  of  grace  and  vengeance,  as  he 
has  appeared  in  all  his  other  works.  0  eternity !  with  what 
majestic  wonders  art  thou  rejDlenished,  where  Jehovah  acts 
with  his  own  immediate  hand,  and  displays  himself  God- 

10 


182  INDIFFERENCE   TO   LIFE    URGED 

like  and  unrivaled,  in  his  exploits  both  of  vengeance  and 
of  grace !  In  this  present  state,  our  good  and  evil  are 
blended;  our  happiness  has  some  bitter  ingredients,  our 
misery  has  some  agreeable  mitigations  :  but  in  the  eternal 
world  good  and  evil  shall  be  entirely  and  for  ever  separated ; 
all  will  be  pure,  unmingled  happiness,  or  pure,  unmingled 
misery.  In  the  present  state  the  best  have  not  uninter- 
rupted peace  within ;  conscience  has  frequent  cause  to  make 
them  uneasy ;  some  mote  or  other  falls  into  its  tender  eye, 
and  sets  it  a  weeping ;  and  the  worst  also  have  their  arts  to 
keep  conscience  sometimes  easy,  and  silence  its  -clamor. 
But  then  conscience  will  have  its  full  scope.  It  will  never 
more  pass  a  censure  upon  the  righteous,  and  it  will  never 
more  be  a  friend,  or  even  an  inactive  enemy  to  the  wicked 
for  so  much  as  one  moment.  The  most  terrible  images 
which  even  the  pencil  of  divine  inspiration  can  draw,  such 
as  a  lake  of  fire  and  hrimstone,  utter  darkness,  the  blackness  of 
darkness,  a  never-dying  ivoim,  unquencliahle  everlasting  fire^ 
and  all  the  most  dreadful  figures  that  can  be  drawn  from 
all  parts  of  the  universe,  are  not  sufficient  to  represent  the 
punishments  of  the  eternal  world.  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  eye,  which  has  ranged  through  so  many  objects, 
has  not  seen ;  the  ear  which  has  had  still  more  extensive 
intelligence  has  not  heard  ;  nor  has  the  heart,  which  is  even 
unbounded  in  its  conceptions,  conceived  the  things  that  Ood 
hath  laid  up  for  ther)i  that  love  him. 

But  what  gives  infinite  importance  to  these  joys  and 
sorrows  is  that  as  they  are  enjoyed  or  suffered  in  the  eter- 
nal world,  they  are  themselves  eternal.  Eternal  joys! 
eternal  pains !  joys  and  pains  that  will  last  as  long  as  the 
King  eternal  and  immortal  will  live  to  distribute  them !  as 
long  as  our  immortal  spirit  will  live  to  feel  them  !  O  what 
joys  and  pains  are  these !  And  these,  my  brethren,  are 
awaiting  every  one  of  us.  These  pleasures  or  these  pains 
are  felt  this  moment  by  such  of  our  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances as  have  shot  the  gulf  before  us ;  and  in  a  little  while, 
you  and  I  must  feel  them. 

And  what  then  have  we  to  do  with  time  and  earth? 
Are  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  this  world  worthy  to  be 
compared  with  these  ?  Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity ; 
the  enjoyments  and  sufferings,  the  labors  and  pursuits,  the 
laughter  and  tears  of  the  present  state,  are  all  nothing  in 
this  comparison.     What  is  the  loss  of  an  estate,  of  a  dear 


FEOM   ITS   SHORTNESS   AND   VANITY.  183 

relative,  to  the  loss  of  a  happy  immortality  ?  But  if  our 
heavenly  inheritance  be  secure,  what  though  we  should  be 
reduced  into  Job's  forlorn  situation,  we  have  enough  left, 
more  than  to  fill  up  all  deficiencies.  What  though  we  are 
poor,  sickly,  melancholy,  racked  with  pains,  and  involved 
in  every  human  misery,  heaven  will  more  than  make 
amends  for  all.  But  if  we  have  no  evidence  of  our  title  to 
that,  the  sense  of  these  transitory  distresses  may  be  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  just  fear  of  the  miseries  of  eternity.  Alas ! 
what  avails  it  that  we  play  away  a  few  years  in  mirth  and 
gayety,  in  grandeur  and  pleasure,  if  when  these  few  years 
are  fled,  we  lift  up  our  eyes  in  hell,  tormented  in  flames ! 
O  what  are  all  these  things  to  a  candidate  for  eternity ! 
an  heir  of  everlasting  happiness  or  everlasting  misery ! 

It  is  from  such  convictive  premises  as  these  that  St.  Paul 
draws  his  inference  in  my  text ;  it  remaineth  therefore  that 
they  that  have  wives  he  as  though  they  had  none ;  and  tliey 
that  lueep,  as  though  they  wept  not ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as 
though  they  rejoiced  not ;  and  they  that  huy,  as  though  they 
2J0ssessed  not;  arid  they  that  use  this  ivorld,  as  not  abusing  it. 
Whatever  afflictions  may  befall  us  here,  they  will  not  last 
long,  but  will  soon  be  swallowed  up  in  the  greater  joys 
or  sorrows  of  the  eternal  world.  These  tears  will  not 
always  flow ;  these  sighs  will  not  always  heave  our  breasts. 
When  we  enter  the  eternal  world,  if  we  have  been  the 
dutiful  children  of  God  here,  his  own  gentle  hand  shall 
wipe  away  every  tear  from  our  faces,  and  he  will  comfort 
the  mourners.  Then  all  the  sorrows  of  life  will  cease  for 
ever,  and  no  more  painful  remembrance  of  them  will  re- 
main, than  of  the  pains  and  sickness  of  our  unconscious 
infancy.  But  if  all  the  discipline  of  our  heavenly  Father 
fails  to  reduce  us  to  our  duty,  if  we  still  continue  rebellious 
and  incorrigible  under  this  rod,  and  consequently  the 
miseries  of  this  life  convey  us  to  those  of  the  future,  the 
smaller  will  be  swallowed  up  and  lost  in  the  greater,  as  a 
drop  in  the  ocean.  Some  desperate  sinners  have  hardened 
themselves  in  sin  with  this  cold  comfort,  "That  since  they 
must  be  miserable  hereafter,  they  will  at  least  take  their 
fill  of  pleasure  here,  and  take  a  merry  journey  to  hell." 
But,  alas!  what  a  sorry  mitigation  will  this  be !  how  en- 
tirely will  all  this  career  of  pleasure  be  forgotten  at  the 
first  pang  of  infernal  anguish !  0 !  what  poor  relief  to  a 
soul  lost  for  ever,  to  reflect  that  this  eternity  of  pain 


184  INDIFFEEENCE   TO   LIFE    UKGED 

followed  upon,  and  Avas  procured  by  a  few  months  or 
years  of  sordid,  guilty  pleasure !     Was  that  a  relief  or  an 
aggravation  which  Abraham  mentions  to  his  lost  son,  when 
he  puts  him  in  mind,  Son,  remember  that  thou  in  thy  life- 
time received  thy  good  things  ?     Thou  hadst  then  all  the 
share  of  good  which  thou  ever  shalt  enjoy ;  thou  hadst 
thy  portion  in  that  world  where  thou  didst  choose  to  have 
it,  and  therefore  stand  to  the  consequences  of  thine  own 
choice,  and  look  for  no  other  portion !      0  !  who  can  bear 
to  be  thus  reminded  and  upbraided  in  the  midst  of  remed- 
iless misery !       Upon  the  whole,  whatever  afflictions  or 
bereavements  we  suffer  in  this  world,  let  us  moderate  our 
sorrows  and  keep  them  within  bounds.      Let  them  not 
work  up  and  ferment  into  risings  against  God,  who  gives 
and  takes  away,  and  blessed  be  his  name !     Let  them  not 
sink  us  into  a  sullen  dislike  of  the  mercies  still  left  in  our 
possession.     Do  not  mistake  me,  as  if  I  recommended  or 
expected  an  utter  insensibility  under  the  calamities  of  life. 
I  allow  nature  its  moderate  tears ;  but  let  them  not  rise  to 
floods  of  inconsolable  sorrows;  I  allow  you  to  feel  your 
afflictions  like  men  and  Christians,  but  then  you  must  bear 
them  like  men  and  Christians  'too.     May  God  grant  that 
we  may  all  exemplify  this  direction  when  we  are  put  to 
the  trial !     The  third  branch  of  the  inference  refers  to  the 
joys  and  pleasures  of  life.     The  time  is  short,  it  remaineth 
therefore  that  they  that  rejoice  he  as  if  they  rejoiced  not ;  that 
is,  the  joys  of  this  life,  from  whatever  earthly  cause  they 
spring,  are  so  short  and  transitory,  that  they  are  as  of  no  ac- 
count to  a  creature  that  is  to  exist  for  ever ;  to  exist  for  ever 
in  joys  or  pains  of  an  infinitely  higher  and  more  important 
kind.     These  vanishing,  uncertain  joys  should  not  engross 
our  hearts  as  our  chief  happiness,  nor  cause  us  to  neglect 
and  forfeit  the  divine  and  everlasting  joys  above  the  skies. 
When  we  are  rejoicing  in  the  abundance  of  earthly  bless- 
ings, we  should  be  as  careful  and  laborious  in  securing  the 
favor  of  God  and  everlasting  happiness  as  if  we  rejoiced 
not.     If  our  eternal  all  is  secured  it  is  enough ;    and  it 
will  not  at  all  be  heightened  or  diminished  by  the  reflec- 
tion that  we  lived  a  joyful  or  a  sad  life  in  this  pilgrimage. 
Use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  it ;  for  the  fashion  of  this 
world  passeth  aivay.     The  whole  scheme  and  system  of 
worldly  affairs,  all  this  marrying,  and  rejoicing,  and  weep- 
ing, and  buying,  and  enjoying,  passeth  away,  passeth  away 


FROM   ITS   SHORTNESS   AND    VANITY.  185 

this  mopaent ;  it  not  only  will  pass  away,  but  it  is  even 
now  passing  away.  The  stream  of  time,  with  all  the  trifles 
that  float  on  it,  and  all  the  eager  pursuers  of  these  bubbles, 
is  in  motion,  in  swift,  incessant  motion,  to  empty  itself  and 
all  that  sail  upon  it,  into  the  shoreless  ocean  of  eternity, 
where  all  will  be  absorbed  and  lost  for  ever.  And  shall 
we  excessively  doat  upon  things  that  are  perpetually  fly- 
ing from  ns,  and  in  a  little  time  will  be  no  more  our  prop- 
erty than  the  riches  of  the  world  before  the  flood  ?  0  ye 
sons  of  men,  how  long  loill  yoa  folloiu  after  vanity  f  why  do 
you  spend  your  money  for  that  which  is  not  bread,  and  your 
hthor  for  that  luliich  projiteth  not  ? 

For  the  fashion  of  this  luorld  passeth  away.  Others  appre- 
hend the  apostle  here  alludes  to  some  grand  procession,  in 
w^ich  pageants  or  emblematical  figures  pass  along  the 
streets.  The  staring  crowd  wait  their  appearance  with 
eager  eyes,  and  place  themselves  in  the  most  convenient 
posture  of  observation ;  they  gape  at  the  passing  show ; 
they  follow  it  with  a  wondering  gaze ; — and  now  it  is  past ; 
and  now  it  begins  to  look  dim  to  the  sight ;  and  now  it 
disappears.  Just  such  is  this  transitory  world.  Thus  it 
begins  to  attract  the  eager  gaze  of  mankind ;  thus  it  marches 
by  in  swift  procession  from  our  eyes  to  meet  the  eyes  of 
others  ;  and  thus  it  soon  vanishes  and  disappears. 

And  shall  we  always  be  stupidly  staring  upon  this  empty 
parade,  and  forget  that  world  of  substantial  realities  to  which 
we  are  hastening  ?  No ;  let  us  live  and  act  as  the  expect- 
ants of  that  world,  and  as  having  nothing  to  do  with  this 
world,  but  only  as  a  school,  a  state  of  discipline,  to  edu- 
cate and  prepare  us  for  another. 

0 !  that  I  could  successfully  impress  this  exhortation 
upon  all  your  hearts  !  O !  that  I  conld  prevail  upon  you 
all  this  day  to  break  off  your  over-fond  attachment  to 
earth,  and  to  make  ready  for  immortality  !  Could  I  carry 
this  point,  it  would  be  a  greater  advantage  than  all  the 
dead  could  receive  by  any  funeral  panegyrics  from  me.  I 
speak  for  the  advantage  of  the  living  upon  such  occasions, 
and  not  to  celebrate  the  virtues  of  those  who  have  passed 
the  trial,  and  received  their  sentence  from  the  supreme 
Judge.  And  I  am  well  satisfied  the  mourning  relatives 
of  our  deceased  friend,  who  best  knew  and  esteemed  his 
worth,  would  be  rather  offended  than  pleased,  if  I  should 
prostitute  the  present  hour  to  so  mean  a  purpose.    Indeed, 

16* 


186  INDIFFERENCE   TO   LIFE,    ETC. 

many  a  character  less  worthy  of  praise  often  makes  a  shi- 
ning figure  in  funeral  sermons.  Many  that  have  not  been 
such  tender  husbands,  such  affectionate  fathers,  and  such 
kind  masters,  such  sincere,  upright  friends,  so  honest  and 
punctual  in  trade,  such  zealous  lovers  of  religion  and  good 
men,  have  had  their  putrefying  remains  perfumed  with 
public  praise  from  a  place  so  solemn  as  the  pulpit ;  but  you 
can  witness  for  me,  it  is  not  my  usual  foible  to  run  to  this 
extreme.  My  business  is  with  you,  who  are  yet  alive,  to 
hear  me.  To  you  I  call,  as  with  the  voice  of  your  deceased 
friend  and  neighbor, — Prepare !  prepare  for  eternity !  0 ! 
if  the  spirits  that  you  once  knew,  while  clothed  in  flesh, 
should  take  my  place,  would  not  this  be  their  united  voice, 
"Prepare,  prepare  for  eternity!  Ye  frail,  short-lived 
mortals ;  ye  near  neighbors  of  the  world  of  spirits ;  ye  bor- 
derers upon  heaven  or  hell ;  make  ready,  loosen  your 
hearts  from  earth,  and  all  that  it  contains ;  weigh  anchor, 
and  prepare  to  launch  away  into  the  boundless  ocean  of 
eternity,  which,  methinks,  is  now  within  your  ken,  and 
roars  within  hearing."  And  remember,  this  I  say,  breth- 
ren, with  great  confidence,  the  time  is  short:  it  remaineth 
therefore,  for  the  future,  that  they  that  have  icives,  be  as  though 
they  had  none  ;  and  they  that  iveep,  as  though  they  luept  not; 
and  they  that  rejoice,  as  if  they  rejoiced  not;  and  they  that  buy, 
as  if  they  possessed  not ;  arid  they  that  use  this  world,  as  not 
abusing  it ;  for  the  fashion  of  this  world,  all  its  schemes  and 
affairs,  all  the  vain  parade,  all  the  idle  farce  of  life,  passeth 
away.  And  away  let  it  pass,  if  we  may  at  last  obtain  a 
better  country ;  that  is,  a  heavenly :  which  may  God  grant 
for  Jesus'  sake  !     Amen. 


LIFE   AND   IMMORTALITY,    ETC.  187 


XVIII. 

LIFE  MD  IMMORTALITY  REVEALED  IN  THE  GOSPEL.* 

"  And  hath  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  by  the  gospel." 

2  Tim.  i,  10. 

So  extensive  have  been  tlie  havoc  and  devastation  which 
death  has  made  in  the  world  for  near  six  thousand  years, 
ever  since  it  was  first  introduced  by  the  sin  of  man,  that 
this  earth  is  now  become  one  vast  grave-yard,  or  burying- 
place  for  her  sons.  The  many  generations  that  have  fol- 
lowed upon  each  other,  in  so  quick  a  succession  from  Adam 
to  this  day,  are  now  in  the  mansions  under  ground.  And 
there  must  we  and  all  the  present  generation  sleep  ere 
long.  Some  make  a  short  journey  from  the  cradle  to  the 
grave  ;  they  rise  from  nothing  at  the  creative  fiat  of  the 
Almighty,  and  take  an  immediate  flight  into  the  world  of 
spirits,  without  an  intermediate  state  of  probation.  Like  a 
bird  on  the  wing,  they  perch  on  our  globe,  rest  a  day,  a 
month,  or  a  year,  and  then  fly  off  to  some  other  regions. 
It  is  evident,  these  were  not  formed  for  the  purposes  of 
the  present  state,  where  they  make  so  short  a  stay ;  and 
yet  we  are  sure  they  are  not  made  in  vain  by  an  all-wise 
Creator,  and  therefore  we  conclude  that  they  are  young 
immortals,  that  immediately  ripen  in  the  world  of  spirits, 
and  there  enter  upon  scenes  for  which  it  was  worth  their 
while  coming  into  existence.  Others  spring  up  and  bloom 
for  a  few  years,  but  they  fade  away  like  a  flower,  and  are 
cut  down.  Others  arrive  at  the  prime  or  meridian  of  hu- 
man life,  but  in  all  their  strength  and  gayety,  and  amid 
their  hurries  and  schemes  and  promising  prospects,  they 
are  surprised  by  the  arrest  of  death,  and  laid  stiff,  sense- 
less, and  ghastly  in  the  grave.  A  few  creep  into  their 
beds  of  dust  under  the  burden  of  old  age  and  the  gradual 
decay  of  nature.     In  short,  the  grave  is  the  place  appointed 

*  This  Sermon  was  preached  at  the  funeral  of  Mr.  William  Yuille,  and 
is  dated  Sept.  1,  1756. 


188  LIFE   AND   IMMORTALITY 

for  all  living ;  the  general  rendezvous  of  the  sons  of  Adam. 
There  the  prince  and  the  beggar,  the  conqueror  and  the 
slave,  the  giant  and  the  infant,  the  scheming  pohtician  and 
the  simple  peasant,  the  wise  and  the  fool.  Heathens,  Jews, 
Mahometans,  and  Christians,  all  lie  equally  low,  and  min- 
gle their  dust  without  distinction.  There  lie  our  ancestors, 
our  neighbors,  our  friends,  our  relatives,  with  whom  we 
once  conversed,  and  who  were  united  to  our  hearts  by 
strong  and  endearing  ties ;  and  there  lies  our  friend,  the 
sprightly,  vigorous  youth,  whose  death  is  the  occasion  of 
this  funeral  solemnity.  This  earth  is  overspread  with  the 
ruins  of  the  human  frame ;  it  is  a  huge  carnage,  a  vast 
charnel-house,  undermined  and  hollowed  by  the  graves, 
the  last  mansions  of  mortals. 

And  shall  these  ruins  of  time  and  death  never  be  re- 
paired ?  Is  this  the  final  state  of  human  nature  ?  Are  all 
these  millions  of  creatures,  that  were  so  curiously  formed, 
that  could  think,  and  will,  and  exercise  the  superior* powers 
of  reason,  are  they  all  utterly  extinct,  absorbed  into  the 
yawning  gulf  of  annihilation,  and  never  again  to  emerge 
into  life  and  activity  ? 

My  text  revives  us  with  heavenly  light  to  scatter  this 
tremendous  gloom.  Jesus  hath  abolished  death,  overthrown 
its  empire,  and  delivered  its  captives;  and  he  hath  hr ought 
life  and  irnmortality  to  light  in  the  gospel.  Life  and  immor- 
tality here  seem  to  refer  both  to  the  soul  and  the  body,  the 
two  constituents  of  our  person.  As  applied  to  the  body, 
life  and  immortality  signify,  that  though  our  bodies  are 
dissolved  at  death,  and  return  into  their  native  elements, 
yet  they  shall  be  formed  anew  with  vast  improvements, 
and  raised  to  an  immortal  existence ;  so  that  they  shall  be 
as  though  death  never  had  had  any  power  over  them ;  and 
thus  death  shall  be  abolished,  annihilated,  and  all  traces 
of  the  ruins  it  had  made  for  ever  disappear,  as  though  they 
had  never  been.  It  is  in  this  sense  chiefly  that  the  word 
immortality  or  incorrwptihility  is  made  use  of  in  my  text. 
But  then  the.  resurrection  of  the  body  supposes  the  per- 
petual existence  of  the  soul,  for  whose  sake  it  is  raised ; 
therefore  life  and  immortality,  as  referring  to  the  soul, 
signify  that  it  is  immortal,  in  a  strict  and  proper  sense ;  that 
is,  that  it  cannot  die  at  all,  or  be  dissolved  like  the  body ; 
it  lives  after  the  dissolution  of  the  animal  frame  in  a  sep- 
arate state ;  and  it  lives  at  the  resurrection  to  reanimate 


REVEALED   IN   THE   GOSPEL.  189 

the  new-formed  body  ;  and  it  lives  for  ever,  and  shall  never 
be  dissolved  nor  annihilated.  In  this  complex  sense  we 
may  understand  the  immortality  of  which  my  text  speaks. 
My  present  design  is  not  to  propose  arguments  for  the  con- 
viction of  your  judgments,  which  I  hope  you  do  not  so 
much  need ;  but  I  shall  give  you  some  idea  of  immortality, 
in  both  the  senses  I  have  mentioned,  and  then  improve  it. 

Let  us  look  through  the  wastes  and  glooms  of  death  and 
the  grave  to  the  glorious  dreadful  morning  of  the  resur- 
rection. At  the  alarming  clangor  of  the  last  trumpet, 
Adam,  and  the  sleeping  millions  of  his  posterity,  start  into 
sudden  life.  The  hour  'is  coming,  in  which  all  that  are  in  the 
graves  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  man,  and  shall  come, 
forth  ;  they  that  have  done  good  to  the  resurrection  of  life,  and 
they  that  have  done  evil  to  the  resurrection  of  damnatio7i. — 
John,  V.  28. 

Then,  my  brethren,  your  dust  and  mine  shall  be  organ- 
ized and  reanimated  ;  and  though  after  our  skin  worms  destroy 
these  bodies,  yet  in  our  flesh  shall  we  see  Ood.  Then  this 
corruptible  shall  put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal  shall  put 
on  immortality.  And  may  not  the  prospect  alarm  us,  and 
set  us  upon  earnest  preparation  for  these  important  scenes  ? 
Shall  we  take  so  much  care  of  our  bodies  in  this  mortal 
state,  where,  after  all  our  care,  they  must  soon  fall  to  dust, 
and  become  the  prey  of  worms,  and  shall  Ave  take  no  care 
that  they  may  have  a  happy  and  glorious  resurrection ! 
My  brethren,  you  must  not  let  sin  reign  in  your  mortal 
bodies  now,  thcit  you  should  obey  it  in  the  lusts  thereof,  if  you 
would  have  them  raised  holy  and  happy  in  that  awful 
morning ;  but  you  must  consecrate  your  bodies,  and  keep 
them  holy  as  the  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  yield 
your  members  as  instruments  of  righteousness  unto  God.  Can 
you  flatter  yourselves  that  bodies  polluted  with  filthy  lusts 
and  sensual  gratifications  shall  ever  be  admitted  into  the 
regions  of  perfect  purity  ?  It  would  be  an  unnatural  ele- 
ment to  such  depraved  constitutions.  Shall  those  feet  ever 
walk  the  crystal  pavement  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  which 
have  been  accustomed  to  run  into  the  foul  paths  of  sin  ? 
Shall  those  tongues  ever  join  the  songs  of  heaven,  which 
have  been  oftener  employed  in  swearing  and  imprecation, 
the  language  of  hell,  than  in  prayer  and  praise?  Shall 
those  ears  ever  be  charmed  with  celestial  music,  which 
have  not  listened  with  pleasure  and  eagerness  to  the  joyful 


190  LIFE   AND   IMMORTALITY 

sound  of  the  gospel,  but  were  entertained  with  the  song  of 
drunkards,  the  loud,  unthinking  laugh,  and  the  impure 
jest?  Are  those  knees  likely  to  bow  in  delightful  homage 
before  the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb  on  high,  which 
have  not  been  used  to  the  posture  of  petitioners  at  the 
throne  of  grace  on  earth  ?  No^  my  brethren,  this  is  not  at 
all  probable,  even  to  a  superficial  inquirer ;  and  to  one  that 
thinks  deeply,  and  consults  with  reason  and  the  sacred 
Scriptures,  this  appears  utterly  impossible. 

Therefore,  take  warning  in  time.  Methinks  this  consid- 
eration might  have  some  weight  even  with  epicures  and 
sensualists,  who  consider  themselves  as  mere  animals,  and 
make  it  their  only  concern  to  provide  and  gratify  the  flesh. 
Unless  you  be  religious  now,  unless  you  now  deny  your- 
selves of  your  guilty  pleasures,  not  only  your  soul,  that 
neglected,  disregarded  trifle,  must  perish,  but  your  body, 
your  dear  body,  your  only  care,  must  be  wretched  too. 
But  if  you  now  keep  your  bodies  pure,  and  serve  God  with 
them,  and  with  your  spirit  too,  they  will  bloom  for  ever  in 
the  charms  of  celestial  beauty ;  they  will  flourish  in  im- 
mortal youth  and  vigor !  And  will  you  not  deny  your- 
selves the  sordid  pleasures  of  a  few  years,  for  the  sake  of 
those  of  a  blessed  immortality  ?  But  let  me  give  you  a 
view  of  immortality  of  a  more  noble  kind,  the  immortality 
of  the  soul.  And  here,  what  an  extensive  and  illustrious 
prospect  opens  before  us !  Look  a  little  way  backward, 
and  your  sight  is  lost  in  the  darkness  of  non-existence.  A 
few  years  ago  you  were  nothing.  But  at  the  creative  fiat 
of  the  Almighty ^hat  little  spark  of  being,  the  soul,  was 
struck  out  of  nothing ;  and  now  it  warms  your  breast,  and 
animates  the  machine  of  flesh.  But  shall  this  glimmering 
spark,  ever  be  extinguished  ?  No ;  it  will  survive  the  ruins 
of  the  universe,  and  blaze  out  into  immortality.  The 
duration  of  your  souls  will  run  on  from  its  first  commence- 
ment in  parallel  lines  with  tlie  existence  of  the  Deity. 
What  an  inheritance  is  this  entailed  upon  the  child  of  dust, 
the  creature  of  yesterday  ?  Here  let  us  pause, — make  a 
stand, — and  take  a  survey  of  this  majestic  prospect !  This 
body  must  soon  moulder  into  dust,  but  the  soul  will  live 
unhurt,  untouched,  amid  all  the  dissolving  struggles  and 
convulsions  of  animal  nature.  These  heavens  shall  pass 
away  with  a  greai  noise  ;  these  elements  shall  melt  ivith  fervent 
he..il ;  the  earth  and  the  things  tliat  are  therein^  shall  he  burnt 


REVEALED   IN   THE   GOSPEL.  191 

up;  but  this  soul  shall   live  secure  of  existence  in  the 
universal  desolation ; 

"  Unhurt  amidst  the  war  of  elements, 
The  wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crush  of  worlds." — Addison. 

And  now,  when  the  present  system  of  things  is  dissolved, 
and  time  shall  be  no  more,  eternity,  boundless  eternity, 
succeeds,  and  on  this  the  soul  enters  as  on  its  proper  he- 
reditary duration.     Now  look  forward  as  far  as  you  will, 
your  eyes  meet  with  no  obstruction,  with  nothing  but  the 
immensity  of  the  prospect ;  in  that,  indeed,  it  is  lost,  as 
extending  infinitely  beyond  its  ken.     Come,  attempt  this 
arithmetic  of  infinites,  and  exhaust  the  power  of  numbers ; 
let  millions  of  millions  of  ages  begin  the  vast  computation ; 
multiply  these  by  the  stars  of  heaven ;  by  the  particles  of 
dust  in  this  huge  globe  of  earth ;  by  the  drops  of  water  in  all 
the  vast  oceans,  rivers,  lakes,  and  springs  that  are  spread  over 
the  globe ;  by  all  the  thoughts  that  have  risen  in  so  quick 
a  succession  in  the  minds  of  men  and  angels,  from  their  first 
creation  to  this  day ;  make  this  computation,  and  then  look 
forward  through  this  long  line  of  duration,  and  contem- 
plate your  future  selves :  still  you  see  yourselves  in  exist- 
ence ;  still  the  same  persons ;  still  endowed  with  the  same 
consciousness,  and  the  same  capacities  for  happiness  or 
misery,  but  vastly  enlarged ;  as  much  superior  to  the  pres- 
ent as  the  capacities  of  an  adult  to  those  of  a  new-born 
infant.     Still  you  will  bloom  in  immortal  youth,  and  as  far 
from  an  end  as  in  the  first  moment  of  your  existence.     O, 
sirs,  methinks  it  may  startle  us  to  view  our  future  selves 
so  changed,  so  improved,  removed  into  such  different  re- 
gions, associated  with  such  strange,  unacquainted  beings,  and 
fixed  in  such  different  circumstances  of  glory  or  terror,  of 
happiness  or  misery.     Men  of  great  projects  and  sanguine 
hopes  are  apt  to  sit  and  pause  and  take  an  imaginary  sur- 
vey of  what  they  will  do,  and  Avhat  they  will  be  in  the  pro- 
gress of  life.     But  then  death,  like  an  apparition,  starts  up 
before  them,  and  threatens  to  cut  them  off  in  the  midst  of 
their  pursuits.     But  here  no  death  threatens  to  extinguish 
your  being,  or  snap  the  thread  of  your  existence  ;  but  it  runs 
on  in  one  everlasting  tenor.    What  a  vast  inheritance  is  this, 
unalienably  entailed  upon  every  child  of  Adam !     What 
importance,  what  value,  does  this  consideration  give  to  that 
neglected  thing,  the  soul!     What  an  awful  thing  is  it! 


192  LIFE   AND   IMMORTALITY 

Immortality !  What  emphasis,  what  grandeur  in  the 
sound !  Immortality  is  so  vast  an  attribute,  that  it  adds  a 
kind  of  infinity  to  any  thing  to  which  it  is  annexed,  how- 
ever insignificant  in  other  respects ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  want  of  this  would  degrade  the  most  exalted  being 
into  a  trifle.  The  highest  angel,  if  a  creature  of  a  day,  or 
of  a  thousand  years,  what  would  he  be  ?  A  fading  flower, 
a  vanishing  vapor,  a  flying  shadow.  But  an  immortal ! 
a  creature  that  shall  never,  never,  never  cease  to  be ! 
that  shall  expand  his  capacity  of  action,  of  pleasure,  or  of 
pain,  through  an  everlasting  duration  !  What  an  awful,  im- 
portant being  is  this  !  And  is  my  soul,  this  little  spark  of 
reason  in  my  breast,  is  that  such  a  being?  I  tremble  at 
myself.  I  revere  my  own  dignity,  and  am  struck  with  a  kind 
of  pleasing  horror  to  view  what  I  must  be.  And  is  there 
any  thing  so  worthy  the  care  of  such  a  being  as  the  happi- 
ness, the  everlasting  happiness,  of  my  immortal  part  ?  What 
is  it  to  me,  who  am  formed  for  an  endless  duration,  what 
I  enjoy,  or  what  I  must  sufler  in  this  vanishing  state  ? 

And  what  shall  become  of  me  through  this  immortal 
duration?  This,  and  this  only,  is  the  grand  concern  of  an 
immortal ;  and  in  comparison  of  it,  it  does  not  deserve  one 
thought  what  will  become  of  me  while  in  this  vanishing 
phantom  of  a  world.  For  consider,  your  immortality  will 
not  be  a  state  of  insensibility,  without  pleasure  or  pain ;  you 
will  not  draw  out  an  endless  inactive  existence  in  an  eter- 
nal stupor  or  a  dead  sleep.  But  your  souls  will  be  active 
as  long  as  they  exist ;  and  as  I  have  repeatedly  observed, 
still  retain  all  their  capacities ;  nay,  their  capacities  will 
perpetually  enlarge  with  an  eternal  growth,  and  for  ever 
tower  from  glory  to  glory  in  heaven,  or  plunge  from  depth 
to  depth  in  hell.  Here  then,  my  fellow-immortals !  here 
pause  and  say  to  yourselves,  "  What  is  like  to  become  of 
my  soul  through  this  long  space  for  ever  ?  Is  it  likely  to 
be  happy  or  miserable  ?"  What  though  you  are  now  rich, 
honorable,  healthy,  merry,  and  gay  ?  Alas !  terrestrial  en- 
joyments are  not  proper  food  for  an  immortal  soul ;  and 
besides  this,  they  are  not  immortal  as  your  souls  are.  If 
these  are  your  portion,  what  will  you  do  for  happiness  mil- 
lions of  ages  hence,  when  all  these  are  fled  away  like  a 
vapor  ?  Are  you  provided  with  a  happiness  which  shall 
last  as  long  as  your  souls  will  live  to  crave  it?  Have 
you  an  interest  in  God?     Are  you  prepared  for  the  frui- 


REVEALED   IN   THE   GOSPEL.  193 

tion  of  the  lieavenlj  state  ?  Do  you  delight  in  God  above 
all  ?  Have  you  a  relish  for  the  refined  pleasures  of  religion  ? 
Do  you  now  accustom  yourselves  to  the  service  of  God,  the 
great  employment  of  heaven  ?  and  are  you  preparing  your- 
selves for  the  more  exalted  devotion  of  the  church  on  high, 
by  a  serious  attendance  on  the  humbler  forms  of  worship  in 
the  church  on  earth  ?  Do  not  some  of  you  know  that  this  is 
not  your  prevailing  character?  And  what  then  do  you 
think  will  become  of  you  without  a  speedy  alteration  in 
your  temper  and  conduct  ?  Alas  !  must  your  immortality, 
the  grand  prerogative  of  your  nature,  become  your  eternal 
curse  ?  Have  you  made  it  your  interest  that  you  should 
be  a  brute  ?  that  is,  that  you  should  perish  entirely,  and 
your  whole  being  be  extinguished  in  death  ?  Then  it  is 
no  wonder  you  strive  to  disbelieve  the  doctrine  of  a  future 
state,  and  your  own  immortality.  But  alas  !  in  vain  is  the 
strife.  The  principles  of  atheism  and  infidelity  may  lull 
your  consciences  into  a  stupid  repose  for  a  little  while, 
but  they  cannot  annihilate  you.  They  may  lead  you  to  live 
like  beasts,  but  they  cannot  enable  you  to  die  like  beasts; 
no,  you  must  live,  live  to  suffer  righteous  punishment, 
whether  you  will  or  not.  As  you  did  not  come  into  being 
b}^  your  own  consent,  so  neither  can  you  lay  down  your 
being  when  you  please.  And  will  you  not  labor  to  make 
your  immortality  a  blessing?  Is  there  any  thing  iu  this 
world  that  can  be  a  temptation  to  you  to  forfeit  such  an 
immense  blessing  ?  0  that  you  were  wise  !  that  you  would 
consider  this ! 

I  shall  now  accommodate  my  subject  to  the  present 
melancholy  occasion,  and  endeavor  to  make  a  particular 
improvement  of  it. 

Do  you  expect  a  character  of  our  deceased  friend  ?  This 
is  not  my  usual  practice ;  and  I  omit  it,  not  because  I  can 
see  nothing  amiable  in  mankind,  nor  because  I  would  en- 
viously deny  them  their  just  praises,  but  because  I  have 
things  of  much  greater  importance  to  engage  your  atten- 
tion. The  dead  have  received  their  just  and  unchange- 
able doom  at  a  superior  tribunal ;  and  our  panegyrics  or 
censures  may  be  often  misapplied.  My  business  is  with 
the  living — not  to  flatter  their  vanity  with  compliments, 
but  awaken  them  to  a  sense  of  their  own  mortality,  and  to 
a  preparation  for  it.  However,  if  you  must  have  a  char- 
acter, I  will  draw  it  to  you  in  the  most  important  and 

17 


194  LIFE  AND   IMMORTALITY,    ETC. 

interesting  light.  Here  was  a  youth  in  the  bloom  of  life, 
in  the  prime  of  his  strength,  with  a  lively  flow  of  spirits, 
who  seemed  as  secure  from  the  stroke  of  death  as  any  of 
us ;  a  youth  that  had  escaped  many  dangers  by  sea  and 
land  ;  a  youth  launched  into  the  world  with,  no  doubt,  the 
usual  projects  and  expectations  of  that  sanguine  age.  But 
where  is  he  now  ?  In  yonder  grave,  alas  !  lies  the  bloom- 
ing, promising  flower,  withered  in  the  morning  of  life. 
Come  to  his  grave,  ye  young  and  gay,  ye  lively  and 
strong,  ye  men  of  business  and  hurry,  come  and  learn 
what  now  may,  and  shortly  must  be,  your  doom.  Thus 
shall  your  purposes  be  broken  off,  your  schemes  vanish 
like  smoke,  and  all  your  hopes  from  this  world  perish. 
Death  perpetually  lurks  in  ambush  for  you,  ready  every 
moment  to  spring  upon  his  prey.  "  O  that  death  1  (said 
a  gentleman  of  a  large  estate,  strong  constitution,  and 
cheerful  temper,)  I  do  not  love  to  think  of  that  death ;  he 
comes  in  and  spoils  all."  So  he  does  indeed  ;  he  spoils  all 
your  thoughtless  mirth,  your  idle  amusements,  and  your 
great  schemes.  Methinks  it  becomes  you  to  prepare  for 
what  you  cannot  avoid.  Methinks,  among  your  many 
schemes  and  projects,  you  should  form  one  to  be  religious. 
You  may  make  a  poor  shift  to  live  without  religion,  but 
you  can  make  none  to  die  without  it. 

But  was  our  departed  friend  nothing  but  an  animal,  a 
mere  machine  of  flesh  ?  Is  the  whole  of  him  putrefying  in 
yonder  grave?  No;  I  must  draw  his  character  further. 
He  was  an  immortal ;  and  no  sooner  did  he  resign  his 
breath,  than  his  soul  took  wing,  and  made  its  flight  into 
the  regions  of  spirits.  There  it  now  dwells.  And  what 
amazing  scenes  now  present  themselves  to  his  view  I  what 
strange,  unknown  beings  does  he  now  converse  with  1 
There  also,  my  brethren,  you  and  I  must  ere  long  bo. 
We,  too,  must  be  initiated  into  those  grand  mysteries  of 
the  invisible  world,  and  mingle  in  this  assembly  of  stran- 
gers. We  must  share  with  angels  in  their  bliss  and  glory, 
or  with  devils  in  their  agonies  and  terrors. 

And  do  you,  sirs,  make  it  your  main  concern  to  se- 
cure a  happy  immortality?  Do  you  live  as  expectants 
of  eternity  ?  Or  do  you  live  as  though  this  world  were  to 
be  your  eternal  residence,  and  as  if  your  bodies,  not  your 
souls,  were  immortal?  Does  your  conscience  approve  of 
^uch  conduct?     Do  you  really  think  it  is  better  for  you. 


A  SERMON   ON   THE   NEW   YEAR.  195 

upon  tlie  whole,  to  commence  fashionably  wickefl,  or, 
perhaps,  ringleaders  in  debauchery  and  infidelity,  in  a 
country  overrun  with  all  manner  of  vice  ?  Is  this  better 
than  to  retain  the  good  impressions  you  might,  perhaps, 
receive  in  youth,  and  to  act  upon  the  model  built  for  you 
in  a  religious  education  ?  Which  do  you  think  you  would 
approve  of  in  the  hour  of  death,  that  honest  hour,  when 
things  begin  to  appear  in  their  true  light  ?  And  of  which, 
think  ye,  will  you  be  able  to  give  the  most  comfortable 
account  at  the  supreme  tribunal  ?  Brethren,  form  an  im- 
partial judgment  upon  this  comparison,  and  let  it  guide 
your  conduct.  Behave  as  strangers  and  jiilgrwis  on  earth, 
that  have  no  continuing  city  ;  behave  as  expectants  of  eter- 
nity, as  candidates  for  immortality ;  as  heholcling  Him  that 
is  invisible,  and  looking  for  a  city  which  has  foundations,  eter- 
nal in  the  heavens.  In  that  celestial  city  may  we  all  meet 
at  last,  through  Jesus  Christ.     Amen  ! 


■♦  ♦ » 


XIX. 

A  SERMON  ON  THE  NEW  YEAR.* 

"This  year  thou  shalt  die." — Jer.  xxviii,  16. 

While  we  are  entering  upon  the  threshold  of  a  new  year, 
it  may  be  proper  for  us  to  stand  and  pause,  and  take  a 
serious  view  of  the  occurrences  that  may  happen  to  us  this 
year,  that  we  may  be  prepared  to  meet  them.  Future 
contingences  are  indeed  unknown  to  us ;  and  this  igno- 
rknce  is  as  agreeable  to  our  present  state,  and  as  conducive 
to  our  improvement  and  happiness,  as  our  knowledge  of 
the  things  which  it  concerns  us  to  know.  But  though  we 
cannot  predict  to  ourselves  the  particular  events  that  may 
befall  us,  yet  the  events  of  life  in  general,  in  a  vague  inde- 
terminate view,  are  not  so  contingent  and  unknowable  as 
to  leave  no  room  for  rational  suppositions,  and  probable 
expectations.      There  are  certain  events  which  regularly 

*  This  sermon  was  preached  at  Nassau-Hall,  and  consequently  to  a 
number  of  youdg  persons,  Jan.  1,  17C1.  The  author  died  the  4th  of  F^b. 
followinff. 


196         A  SERMON  ON  THE  NEW  YEAR. 

happen  to  us  every  year,  and  therefore  we  may  expect 
them  this  year.  There  are  others  sometimes  occur  in  the 
compass  of  a  year,  and  sometimes  do  not ;  sucii  are  many 
of  the  blessings  and  afflictions  of  Hfe ;  of  these  we  should 
be  apprehensive,  and  prepare  for  them.  And  there  are 
events  which  we  know  are  before  us,  and  we  are  sure 
they  will  occur ;  but  at  what  particular  time  they  will 
happen,  whether  this  year  or  next,  whether  this  day  or 
to-morrow,  is  to  us  an  utter  uncertainty.  Such  is  that 
interesting  event,  the  close  of  the  present  life,  and  our  en- 
trance into  eternity.  That  we  must  die,  is  as  certain  as 
that  we  now  live  ;  but  the  hour  or  year  when,  is  kindly 
and  wisely  concealed  from  us,  that  we  may  be  always  ready, 
and  stand  in  the  posture  of  constant,  vigilant  expectation, 
that  we  may  not  be  surprised.  But  certainly  it  becomes 
us  to  reflect  seriously  upon  the  mere  possibility  of  this 
event  happening  this  year,  and  realize  to  ourselves  those 
important  consequences  that  result  from  this  supposition. 
The  mere  possibility  of  tliis  may  justly  affect  us  more  than 
the  certain  expectation  of  any  other  futurity.  And  it  is 
not  only  possible,  but  highly  probable,  death  may  meet 
some  of  us  within  the  compass  of  this  year.  Yes,  it  is 
highly  probable  that  if  some  prophet,  like  Jeremiah, 
should  open  to  us  the  book  of  the  divine  decrees,  one  or 
other  of  us  would  there  see  our  sentence,  and  the  time  of 
its  execution  fixed.  Tims  saith  the  Lord:  This  year  thou 
shall  die.  '  There  are  some  of  us  would  find  it  written, 
"  This  year  thou  shalt  enjoy  a  series  of  prosperity,  to  try 
if  the  goodness  of  God  will  lead  thee  to  repentance." 
Others  might  read  this  melancholy  line,  "  This  year  shall 
.be  to  thee  a  series  of  affliction ;  this  year  thou  shalt  lose 
thy  dearest  earthly  support  and  comfort ;  this  year  thou 
shalt  pine  away  with  sickness,  or  agonize  with  torturing 
pain,  to  try  if  the  kind  severities  of  a  Father's  rod  will 
reduce  thee  to  thy  duty."  Others,  I  hope,  would  read  the 
gracious  decree,  "  This  year  thy  stubborn  spirit,  after  long 
resistance,  shall  be  sweetly  constrained  to  bow  to  the 
despised  gospel  of  Christ ;  this  year  thou  shalt  be  born  a 
child  of  God,  and  an  heir  of  happiness,  which  the  revolu- 
tions of  years  shall  never,  never  termiuate."  O  happy 
and  glorious  event !  May  we  hope  this  mercy  is  reserved 
among  the  secrets  of  heaven  for  any  thought]^ss,  impeni- 
tent sinner  among  us  !     And  that  the  decree  will  bring 


A  SERMON   ON   THE   NEW   YEAR.  197 

forth  this  year !  this  year  which  finds  us  in  a  deep  sleep, 
stupidly  careless  of  our  everlasting  interest,  and  which,  if 
like  the  preceding,  will  be  a  season  of  thoughtless  imj^eni- 
tence  and  presumptuous  security !  Others  perhaps  would 
read  "this  tremendous  doom,  •'  This  year,  my  spirit,  so  long 
resisted,  shall  cease  to  strive  with  thee;  this  year  I  will 
give  thee  up  to  thine  own  heart's  lusts,  and  swear  in  my 
wrath  thou  shalt  not  enter  into  my  rest."  O  !  dismal  sen- 
tence !  I^one  can  equal  it  with  terror  but  one,  and  that  is, 
De-part  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire :  and  the  for- 
mer is  an  infallible  presage  of  the  latter.  Others,  (O !  let 
our  souls  dwell  upon  the  thought !)  would  probably  find 
the  doom  of  the  false  prophet,  Hananiah,  pronounced 
against  them :  TJuis  saith  the  Lord,  Behold,  I  luill  cast  thee 
from  off  the  face  of  the  earth:  this  year  thou  shalt  die.  This 
year  you  may  die,  for  your  life  is  the  greatest  uncertainty 
in  the  world.  You  have  no  assurance  of  another  year, 
another  day,  or  even  another  moment. 

This  year  you  may  die,  because  thousands  have  died 
since  the  last  new  year's  day  ;  and  this  year  will  be  of  the 
same  kind  with  the  last :  the  duration  of  mortals ;  a  time 
to  die.  The  causes  of  death,  both  in  the  human  constitu- 
tion and  in  the  world  without,  will  exist  and  operate  in 
this  year  as  well  as  the  last. 

This  year  you  may  die,  though  you  are  young ;  for  the 
regions  of  the  dead  have  been  crowded  with  persons  of 
your  age;  and  no  age  is  the  least  security  against  the 
stroke  of  death. 

This  year  you  may  die,  though  you  are  now  in  health 
and  vigorous,  and  your  constitution  seems  to  promise  a 
long  life ;  for  thousands  of  such  will  be  hurried  into  the 
eternal  world  this  year,  as  they  have  been  in  years  that 
are  past.  The  principles  of  death  may  be  even  now  work- 
ing within  you,  notwithstanding  the  seeming  firmness  of 
your  constitution,  and  you  may  be  a  pale,  cold,  lifeless 
corpse  sooner -than  the  invalid  whose  life  is  apparently 
near  its  close. 

This  year  you  may  die,  though  you  are  full  of  business, 
though  you  have  projected  many  schemes,  which  may  be 
the  work  of  years  to  execute,  and  whicli  afford  you  many 
bright  and  flattering  prospects.  Death  will  not  consult 
your  leisure,  nor  be  put  off  till  another  year,  that  you  may 
accomplish  your  designs.      Thousands  have  died  before 

17* 


198         A  SERMON  ON  THE  NEW  YEAR. 

you,  and  will  die  this  year  amidst  their  golden  prospects, 
and  while  spinning  out  their  eternal  schemes.  And  what 
has  hap|)cncd  to  them  may  happen  to  you. 

Tliis  year  you  may  die,  though  you  have  not  yet  fin- 
ished your  education,  nor  fixed  in  life,  but  are  preparing  to 
appear  in  the  world,  and  perhaps  elated  with  the  prospect 
of  the  figure  you  will  make  in  it.  Many  such  abortive 
students  are  now  in  the  dust.  Many  that  had  passed 
through  a  laborious  course  of  preparation  for  public  life, 
and  had  inspired  their'  friends,  as  well  as  themselves,  with 
high  hopes,  have  been  snatched  away  as  they  were  just 
stepping  upon  the  stage;  and  this  may  be  your  doom 
also. 

This  year  you  may  die,  though  you  are  not  prepared  for 
it.  When  death  shows  you  his  warrant  under  the'  great 
seal  of  Heaven,  it  will  be  no  excuse  to  plead,  "  I  am  not 
ready."  Though  the  consequences  of  your  dying  unpre- 
pared will  be  your  everlasting  ruin,  yet  that  dreadful  con- 
sideration will  have  no  weight  to  delay  the  execution. 

This  year  you  may  die,  though  you  deliberately  delay 
your  preparation,  and  put  it  off  to  some  future  time.  You 
may  fix  upon  the  next  year,  or  the  decline  of  life,  as  the 
season  for  religion ;  but  that  time  may  not  be  at  your  dis- 
posal. Others  may  live  to  see  it,  but  you  may  be  ingulfed 
in  the  boundless  ocean  of  eternity  before  it  arrives,  and 
your  time  for  preparation  may  be  over  for  ever. 

This  year  you  may  die,  though  you  are  unwilling  to  ad- 
mit the  thought.  Death  does  not  slacken  his  pace  towards 
you,  because  you  hate  him,  and  are  afraid  of  his  approach. 
Your  not  realizing  your  latter  end  as  near,  does  not  remove 
it  to  a  greater  distance.  Think  of  it  or  not,  you  must  die ; 
your  want  of  thought  can  be  no  defence ;  and  you  know 
not  how  soon  you  may  feel  what  you  cannot  bear  to  think 
of 

This  year  you  may  die,  though  you  strongly  hope  the 
contrary,  and  flatter  yourself  with  the  expectation  of  a 
length  of  years.  You  will  not  perhaps  admit  the  thought 
of  a  short  abortive  life  ;  but  notwithstanding  this,  you  may 
be  a  lifeless  corpse  before  this  year  finishes  its  revolution. 

Thus  it  appears  very  possible,  thiU  one  or  other  of  us 
may  die  this  year.  ISTay,  it  is  very  probable,  as  well  as 
possible,  if  we  consider  that  it  is  a  very  uncommon,  and 
almost  unprecedented  thing,  that  not  one  should  die  in  a 


A  SERMON   ON   THE   NEW   YEAR.  199 

^wliole  year  out  of  such  an  assembly  as  this.  More  than 
one  have  died  the  year  past,  who  made  a  part  of  our  assem- 
bly last  new  year's  day.  Therefore  let  each  of  us  (for  we 
know  not  on  whom  the  lot  may  fall)  realize  this  possibility, 
this  alarming. probability,  "  this  year  I  may  die." 

And  what  if  you  should?  Surely  you  may  be  startled 
at  this  question  :  O  !  the  surprising  change  !  O !  the  im- 
portant consequences ! 

If  you  die  this  year,  then  all  your  doubts,  all  the  anxi- 
eties of  blended  hopes  and  fears  about  your  state  and 
character  will  terminate  for  ever  in  full  conviction.  If 
you  are  impenitent  sinners,  all  the  artifices  of  self-iiattery 
will  be  able  to  make  you  hope  better  things  no  longer; 
but  the  dreadful  discovery  will  flash  upon  you  the  resist- 
less blaze  of  intuitive  evidence.  You  will  see,  you  will 
feel  it  to  be  such.  If  you  lie  under  the  condemnation  of 
the  divine  law,  you  will  no  longer  be  able  to  flatter  your- 
selves with  better  hopes ;  the  execution  of  the  penalty  will 
sadly  convince  you  of  the  tremendous  truth.  To  dispute 
it  would  be  to  dispute  the  deepest  heart-felt  sensations  of 
the  most  exquisite  misery.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  your 
fears  and  doubts  are  the  honest  anxieties  of  a  sincere,  self- 
diffident  heart,  ever  jealous  of  itself,  and  afraid  of  every 
mistake  in  a  matter  of  such  vast  importance,  you  will  meet 
with  the  welcome  demonstration  of  your  sincerity,  and  of 
your  being  unquestionably  the  favorites  of  Heaven.  Sen- 
sation will  afford  you  conviction,  and  you  will  believe 
what  you  see.  In  short,  the  possibility  that  this  year  may 
may  be  your  last  may  be  joyful  tidings  to  you.  If  you 
die  this  year,  this  year  you  shall  be  in  heaven,  imparadised 
in  the  bosom  of  God.  And  is  it  possible  your  salvation  is 
so  near !     Transporting  thought ! 

It  would  be  easy  to  enumerate  several  happy  conse- 
quences of  death  with  regard  to  those  who  have  spent 
their  life  in  preparation  for  it ;  and  the  nearness  of  death, 
instead  of  striking  them  with  terror,  may  heighten  the 
transports  of  expectation.  It  would  afford  me  no  small 
pleasure  to  trace  those  blessed  consequences,  and  it  would 
be  an  act  of  kindness  and  compassion  to  the  heirs  of  heaven, 
many  of  whom  go  mourning  and  trembling  even  towards 
the  regions  of  happiness,  as  though  they  were  going  to 
the  place  of  execution,  and  anticipate  but  very  little  of 
those  infinite  pleasures  which  are  so  near  at  hand.     But  I 


200  A   SERMON   ON   THE   NEW   YEAR. 

intend  to  devote  the  present  hour  chiefly  to  the  service  of» 
a  part,  perhaps  the  greater  part,  of  my  hearers,  who  are  in 
a  more  dangerous  and  alarming  situation,  I  mean  such 
who  may  die  this  year,  and  yet  are  not  prepared;  such 
who  are  as  near  to  hell  as  they  are  to  death,  and  conse- 
quently stand  in  need  of  the  most  powerful  and  immediate 
applications,  unless  they  be  undone  for  ever  beyond  re- 
covery. To  you  therefore,  my  dear  brethren,  my  fellow- 
mortals,  my  fellow-candidates  for  eternity,  whose  everlast- 
ing state  hangs  in  a  dread  suspense,  who  have  a  secret 
conviction  that  you  are  not  qualified  for  admission  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  and  who  cannot  promise  yourselves 
that  you  shall  not  sink  into  the  infernal  pit  this  year,  but 
upon  this  supposition,  which  is  the  most  precarious  and 
doubtful  in  the  world,  namely,  that  you  shall  live  out 
another  year ;  to  you  I  would  address  myself  with  affec- 
tionate tenderness,  and  yet  with  plainness  and  pungency. 
And  I  beg  your  most  solemn  attention  to  an  affair  of  infi- 
nite moment,  to  which  you  may  not  have  another  year  to 
attend. 

This  year  you  may  die :  and  should  you  die  this  year, 
you  will  be  for  ever  cut  ofi"  from  all  the  pleasures  of  life. 
Then  farewell,  an  everlasting  farewell  to  all  the  mirth  and 
gayety,  the  tempting  amusements  and  vain  delights  of 
youth.  Farewell  to  all  the  pleasures  you  derive  from  the 
senses,  and  all  the  gratifications  of  appetite.  This  3^ear 
the  sun  may  lose  its  lustre  as  to  you,  and  all  the  lovely 
prospects  of  nature,  may  become  a  dismal  blank.  To  you 
music  may  lose  all  her  charms,  and  die  away  into  ever- 
lasting silence ;  and  all  the  gratifications  of  the  palate  may 
become  insipid.  When  you  lie  in  the  cold  grave,  you  will 
be  as  dead  to  such  sensations  as  the  clay  that  covers  you. 
Then  farewell  to  all  the  pompous  but  empty  pleasures  of 
riches  and  honors.  The  pleasures  both  of  enjoyment  and 
expectation  from  this  quarter  will  fail  for  ever.  But  this 
is  not  all.  If  you  should  die  this  year,  you  will  have  no 
pleasures,  no  enjoyments  to  substitute  for  those  you  will 
lose.  Your  capacity  and  eager  thirst  for  happiness  will 
continue,  nay,  will  grow  more  strong  and  violent  in  that 
improved  adult  state  of  your  nature.  And  yet  you  will 
have  no  good,  real  or  imaginary,  to  satisfy  it;  and  conse- 
quently the  capacity  of  happiness  will  become  a  capacity 
of  misery,  and  the  privation  of  pleasure  will  be  positive 


A   SERMON''   ON   THE   NEW   YEAR.  201 

pain.  Can  imagination  feign  any  tiling  more  wretched 
tlian  a  creature  formed  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  infinite 
good,  pining  away  for  ever  with  hungry,  raging  desires, 
without  the  least  degree  of  gratification  !  banished  at  once 
from  the  supreme  good,  and  from  all  the  created  enjoy- 
ments that  were  wont  to  be  poorly  substituted  in  his  stead ! 
Yet  this  may  be  your  case  in  the  short  compass  of  the  fol- 
lowing year.  O !  what  a  terrible  change  !  What  a  pro- 
digious fall ! 

Should  you  die  this  year,  all  your  hopes  and  prospects 
as  to  a  future  life  will.perish  abortive.  Several  of  you  now 
are  in  a  state  of  education,  preparing  to  enter  upon  the 
stage  of  the  world ;  and  you  are  perhaps  often  pleasing 
yourselves  with  gay  and  magnificent  dreams  about  the 
figure  you  will  make  upon  it.  You  may  be  planning  many 
schemes  to  be  accomplished  in  the  several  periods' of  a  long 
life:  and  are  perhaps  already  anticipating  in  idea  the 
pleasure,  the  profit,  or  the  honor  you  expect  to  derive 
from  their  execution.  In  these  fond  hopes  your  affection- 
ate parents,  friends,  and  teachers  concur,  with  generous 
pleasure.  But,  alas !  in  the  swift  revolution  of  this  be- 
ginning year,  all  the  sanguine  expectations  and  pleasing 
prospects  may  vanish  into  smoke.  Youth  is  the  season  of 
promise,  full  of  fair  blossoms ;  but  these  fair  blossoms  may 
wither  and  never  produce  the  expected  fruits  of  maturity. 
It  may  perhaps  be  the  design  of  Heaven,  that  after  all  the 
flattering  hopes  and  projects,  and  after  all  the  pains  and 
expense  of  a  liberal  education,  you  shall  never  appear 
upon  the  public  stage ;  or  that  you  shall  vanish  away  like 
a  phantom  as  soon  as  you  make  your  appearance.  Cer- 
tainly, then,  you  should  extend  your  prospects  beyond  the 
limits  of  mortality ;  extend  them  into  that  world  where 
you  will  live  to  execute  them,  without  the  risk  of  disap- 
pointment !     Otherwise, 

If  you  die  this  year,  you  will  not  only  be  cut  off  from 
all  the  flattering  prospects  of  this  life,  but  from  all  hope 
entirely  and  for  ever.  If  you  die  in  your  sins,  you  will  be 
fixed  in  an  unchangeable  state  of  misery ;  a  state  that  will 
admit  of  no  expectation  but  that  of  uniform,  or  rather  of 
ever-growing  misery ;  a  state  that  excludes  all  hopes  of 
making  a  figure,  except  as  the  monument  of  the  vindictive 
justice  of  God,  and  the  deadly  effects  of  sin.  How  affect- 
ing is  the  idea  of  a  promising  youth  cut  off  from  the  land 


202  A   SERMON   ON   THE   NEW   YEAR. 

of  the  liviim',  useless  and  hopeless  in  both  worlds !  fallen 
from  the  summit  of  hope  into  the  gulf  of  everlasting  de- 
spair !  Yet  this  may  be  your  doom,  my  dear  youth — your 
doom  this  very  year,  if  you  should  die  in  your  sins.  If 
you  should  die  this  year,  then  all  the  ease  and  pleasure 
3^ou  now  derive  from  thoughtlessness,  self-flattery,  and 
sup]3ressing  the  testimony  of  your  consciences  will  for  ever 
be  at  an  end.  You  will  then  be  obliged  to  view  your- 
selves in  a  just  light,  and  to  know  the  worst  of  your  con- 
dition. The  secret  plaudits  of  self-flattery  will  be  for  ever 
silenced,  and  conscience  will  recover  itself  from  that  state 
of  insensibility  into  which  you  have  cast  it  by  repeated 
violences ;  and,  as  exasperated  by  your  ill  treatment  it  will 
become  your  everlasting  tormentor,  it  will  do  nothing  but 
accuse  and  upbraid  you  for  ever ;  you  will  never  more  be 
able  to  entertain  so  much  as  one  favorable  thought  of 
yourselves.  And  what  a  wretched  state  will  this  be !  for 
a  man  to  be  self-condemned  !  to  disapprove  of  his  whole 
past  conduct !  to  be  pleased  with  nothing  in  himself,  but 
heartily,  though  Avith  horror,  to  concur  in  the  condemning 
sentence  of  the  Supreme  Judge  and  the  whole  creation ! 
to  esteem  himself  a  self-destroyer,  an  outcast  from  all  hap- 
piness, and  from  the  society  of  all  happy  beings ;  an  un- 
lovely, odious,  useless,  miserable,  despairing  being  for  ever ! 
O  miserable  situation !  Does  it  not  alarm  you  to  think 
you  may  be  so  near  it? 

If  you  should  die  this  year,  you  will  be  deprived  for  ever 
of  all  the  means  of  salvation.  All  these  are  confined  to 
the  present  life,  and  have  no  place  in  the  world  of  eternal 
punishment.  There  the  thunders  of  the  divine  law  roar, 
but  the  gentle  voice  of  the  gospel  never  sounds.  There 
the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah  rends  the  prey;  but  never 
exhibits  himself  as  a  Lamb  that  was  slain,  an  atonement 
for  sin,  and  the  Saviour  of  the  guilty.  There  conscience 
exerts  its  power,  not  to  excite  the  medicinal  anguish  of 
kindly  repentance,  but  the  hopeless  horrors  of  everlasting 
despair.  There  Jehovah  works,  but  not  to  enable  the  sin- 
ner to  work  out  his  own  salvation,  but  to  touch  all  the 
springs  of  painful  sensation,  and  open  all  the  sources  of 
misery  in  the  criminal.  There  mercy  no  more  distributes 
her  bounties,  but  justice  reigns  in  her  awful  rigors.  There 
the  sanctifying  spirit  no  more  communicates  his  purifying, 
all-healing  influences,  but  sin,  the  great  Apollyon,  diffuses 


A   SERMON   ON   THE   NEW   YEAR.  203 

its  deadly  poison.  In  a  word,  when  you  leave  tliis  state 
of  trial,  all  the  discipline  of  the  present  state,  all  your  ad- 
vantages for  salvation,  all  the  means  of  grace,  and  all  the 
encouragements  of  hope  will  be  for  ever  removed  out  of 
your  reach ;  and  consequently  all  possibility  of  your  sal- 
vation will  cease  for  ever ;  for  when  the  necessary  means 
are  taken  away,  the  end  becomes  utterly  impossible. 
Therefore, 

If  you  should  die  this  year,  all  your  hopes  of  heaven 
will  vanish  for  ever.  No  more  happiness  for  you !  You 
have  received  your  portion  in  this  life — a  few  years  of 
sordid,  unsatisfactory  happiness ;  and  an  entire  eternity  of 
misery,  permanent,  exquisite,  consummate  misery  follows 
behind  !  No  more  intellectual  amusements  and  pleasing 
studies !  no  more  gentle  beams  of  science !  but  the  black- 
ness of  darkness  for  ever!  intense  poring  upon  your 
hopeless  wretchedness !  tormenting  recollections  of  your 
past  folly  and  madness  in  voluntarily  rushing  into  the  pit ! 
'No  agreeable  companion !  no  sympathizing  friend  !  no  re- 
laxation !  no  pleasing  exercise !  no  encouraging  prospects ! 
no  comforting  reviews ;  no  friendly  intercourse  with  hea- 
ven !  no  token  of  love !  no  gift  of  grace  from  the  Father 
of  mercy !  no  hope  in  the  future !  no  relief  from  the  past ! 
no  refuge,  no  escape,  at  the  expense  of  existence,  into  the 
gulf  of  annihilation !  but  above,  an  angry  God  and  a  lost 
heaven !  behind,  a  misspent  life  and  opportunities  of  sal- 
vation irrecoverably  lost !  within,  a  guilty,  remorseful  con- 
science, an  implacable  self-tormentor !  around,  malignant, 
enraged  ghosts,  mutual  tormentors  !  before,  an  eternity  of 
hopeless  misery,  extending  infinitely  beyond  the  ken  of 
sight !     O,  tremendous  doom !  who  can  bear  the  thought  ? 

And  is  it  possible  it  should  be  so  near  to  any  of  us  ? 
Where  is  the  unhappy  creature,  that  we  may  all  drop  our 
tears  over  him  ?  Where  is  he  ?  Eather,  where  is  he  not  ? 
An  impenitent  sinner  is  almost  ever}^ where  to  be  found  ; 
and  that  is  the  wretched  creature  who  stands  every  mo- 
ment upon  the  slippery  brink  of  this  horrible  precipice ; 
and  this  year,  nay,  this  hour,  for  what  mortals  or  angels 
know,  he  may  be  thrown  down,  ingulfed,  and  lost  for  ever. 
And  is  this  a  safe  situation  for  you,  thoughtless,  fool-hardy 
mortals !  Does  it  become  you,  in  such  a  situation,  to  be 
cheerful,  merry,  and  gay,  or  busy,  restless,  and  laborious  in 
the  pursuits  of  this  transitory  life  ?     Does  it  become  you 


204  A   SERMON   ON   THE   NEW   YEAR. 

to  dread  nothing  but  the  disasters  and  calamities  of  the 
present  state,  or  spin  out  your  eternal  schemes  of  grandeur, 
riches,  or  pleasures,  in  hopes  to  accomplish  them  within 
the  narrow,  uncertain  limits  of  time  allotted  to  you  ?  Alas  1 
before  another  year  has  run  its  hasty  round,  the  world  and 
all  it  contains,  all  its  pursuits  and  enjoyments,  all  its  cares 
and  sorrows,  may  be  as  insignificant  to  you  as  the  gran- 
deur of  Caesar,  or  the  riches  of  the  world  before  the  flood. 
Earthly  riches  or  poverty,  liberty  or  slavery,  honor  or  dis- 
grace, joy  or  sorrow,  sickness  or  death,  may  in  this  year 
become  as  little  your  concern,  and  be  as  much  nothing  to 
you  as  to  your  coffin,  or  to  the  dust  that  shall  cover  it,  or 
to  Judas,  that  has  been  gone  to  his  own  place  above  seven- 
teen hundred  years.  Does  it  not  rather  become  you  to 
turn  your  thoughts  to  another  inquiry  :  "  Is  it  possible  for 
me  to  escajDC  this  impending  danger  ?  Where,  how,  whence 
may  I  obtain  deliverance  ?"  If  you  are  not  desirous  seri- 
ously to  attend  to  this  inquiry,  it  will  be  to  no  purpose 
for  me  to  solve  it :  to  you  it  will  appear  as  a  solemn  trifle, 
or  an  impertinent  episode.  But  if  you  will  lay  it  to  heart, 
if  you  will,  as  it  were,  give  me  your  word  that  you  will 
pay  a  proper  regard  to  it,  I  shall  enter  upon  the  solution 
with  the  utmost  alacrity. 

I  assure  you,  then,  in  the  first  place,  your  case  is  not 
yet  desperate,  unless  you  choose  to  make  it  so ;  that  is, 
unless  you  choose  to  persist  in  carelessness  and  impeni- 
tence, as  you  have  hitherto  done.  If  you  now  begin  to 
think  seriously  upon  your  condition,  to  break  off  from 
your  sins,  and  attend  in  good  earnest  upon  the  means 
appointed  for  your  salvation,  there  is  hope  that  this  year, 
wliich  now  finds  you  in  so  deplorable  a  state,  will  intro- 
duce you  into  another,  under  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  safe 
from  all  danger,  and  entitled  to  everlasting  happiness.  I 
presume  you  all  know  so  well  the  external  means  you 
should  use  for  your  salvation,  that  I  need  not  particularly 
direct  you  to  them.  You  all  know  that  prayer,  reading 
and  hearing  the  word  of  God,  meditation  upon  divine 
things,  free  conference  with  such  as  have  been  taught  by 
experience  to  direct  you  in  this  difficult  work  ;  you  all 
know,  I  say,  that  these  are  the  means  instituted  for  j^our 
conversion ;  and  if  you  had  right  views  of  things,  and  a 
just  temper  towards  them,  3^ou  would  hardly  need  instruc- 
tion, or  the  least  persuasion  to  make  use  of  them.     But  to 


A  SERMON   ON   THE   NEW   YEAR.  205 

give  you  such  views,  and  inspire  you  with  such  a  temper, 
this  is  the  difficulty.  O  that  I  knew  how  to  undertake  it 
with  success !  I  can  only  give  you  such  directions  as  ap- 
pear to  me  proper  and  salutary ;  but  it  is  the  almighty 
power  of  God  alone  that  can  give  them  force  and  efficacy. 

.  You  must  learn  to  think,  to  think  seriously  and  solemnly 
upon  your  danger,  and  the  necesssity  of  a  speedy  escape. 
You  must  retire  from  the  crowd,  from  talk,  dissipation, 
business,  and  amusement,  and  converse  with  yourselves 
alone,  in  pensive  solitude. 

You  must  learn  to  think  patiently  upon  subjects  the 
most  melancholy  and  alarming,  your  present  guilt  and  de- 
pravity, and  your  dreadful  doom  so  near  at' hand,  if  you 
continue  in  your  present  condition.  The  mind,  fond  of 
ease,  and  impatient  of  such  mortifying  and  painful  thoughts, 
will  recoil,  and  fly  off,  and  seek  for  refuge  in  every  trifle ; 
but  you  must  arrest  and  confine  it  to  these  disagreeable 
subjects ;  you  must  force  upon  it  this  medicinal  pain,  as 
you  often  force  your  stomach,  when  your  health  requires 
it.  There  is  not  any  moroseness  in  this  advice ;  no  ill-na- 
tured design  upon  your  pleasure  and  happiness.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  intended  to  procure  you  more  pleasure 
and  happiness  than  you  can  possibly  obtain  any  other 
Avay ;  it  is  intended  to  prevent  many  sorrowful  days  and 
years,  nay,  a  complete  eternity  of  misery.  The  alternative 
proposed  to  you  is  not  whether  you  shall  be  pensive  and 
serious  or  not.  This  is  not  at  all  the  state  of  the  case ;  for 
you  must  feel  the  sorrows  of  repentance;  you  must  be 
thoughtful  and  pensiVe  ;  you  must  confine  your  minds  to 
subjects  of  terror  ;  you  must,  whether  you  will  or  not ;  it 
is  utterly  unavoidable.  But  the  only  alternative  proposed 
to  your  choice  is,  whether  you  will  voluntarily  submit  to 
the  kindly,  hopeful,  medicinal,  preventive  sorrows  of  re- 
pentance in  this  state  of  trial,  which  will  issue  in  everlast- 
ing joy,  or  be  forced  to  submit  to  the  despairing  pangs, 
and  useless,  destructive  horrors  of  too  late  a  repentance  in 
the  eternal  world,  which  will  only  torment  you,  but  not 
save  you;  which  will  be  your  punishment,  and  not  a 
means  of  your  reformation,  or  a  preparative  for  happiness. 
Whether  you  will  confine  your  thoughts  for  a  time  to  the 
contemplation  of  your  present  miserable  circumstances, 
while  hope  even  eradicates  even  the  darkest  gloom  of  dis- 
couragement, and  the  gospel  opens  such  bright  and  invi- 

18 


206  A  SERMON   ON  THE  NEW  YEAR. 

ting  prospects  beyond  those  melancholy  views  that  now 
first  present  themselves  to  your  thoughts,  or  whether  you 
will  choose  to  pine  away  a  doleful  eternity  in  sullen,  in- 
tense, hopeless  porings  upon  your  remediless  misery,  in 
pale  reviews  of  past  folly,  and  shocking  surveys  of  endless 
ages  of  woe  before  you.  This  is  the  true  state  of  the  case  ; 
and  can  you  be  at  a  loss  what  choice  to  make  ?  Does  not 
the  voice  of  reason,  the  voice  of  conscience,  of  self-interest 
and  self-love,  as  well  as  the  voice  of  God,  direct  you  to 
choose  a  few  serious,  sad,  solemn,  sorrowful,  penitent 
hours  now,  rather  than  to  invert  the  choice  and  to  pur- 
chase a  few  hours  of  presumptuous  ease  at  the  expense  of 
a  wretched,  despairing  eternity  ?  O  choose  life,  that  you 
may  live.  While  you  indulge  a  trifling  levity  of  mind, 
and  a  roving  dissipation  of  thought,  there  is  no  hope  you 
will  ever  seriously  attend  to  your  most  important  interest. 
Hence  it  is  that  I  have  made  it  so  much  my  endeavor  to- 
day to  make  you  serious  and  thoughtful.  To  enforce  this, 
let  me  repeat  what  I  think  cannot  but  have  some  effect, 
especially  as  it  comes  not  from  the  priesthood,  but  the 
court,  and  from  a  courtier  as  eminent  as  England  ever 
boasted. 

"Ah !  my  friends!  while  we  laugh,  all  things  are  serious 
round  about  us :  God  is  serious,  who  exerciseth  patience 
towards  us ;  Christ  is  serious,  who  shed  his  blood  for  us  ; 
the  Holy  Ghost  is  serious,  who  striveth  against  the  obsti- 
nacy of  our  hearts ;  the  Holy  Scriptures  bring  to  our  cars 
the  most  serious  things  in  the  world ;  the  holy  sacraments 
represent  the  most  serious  and  awful  matters ;  the  whole 
creation  is  serious  in  serving  God  and  us ;  all  that  are  in 
heaven  and  hell  are  serious; — how  then. can  you  be  gay?" 

I  pray  you,  my  brethren,  yield  an  immediate  compliance. 
Do  not  delay  this  great  affair  for  another  year.  You  ma}'" 
perhaps  have  time  enough  before  you  to  work  out  your 
salvation,  if  you  immediately  begin  to  improve  it ;  but,  if 
you  loiter,  you  may  perish  for  want  of  time :  the  riches  of 
the  world  will  not  be  able  then  to  redeem  one  of  those 
pi'ecious  hours  you  now  squander  away. 

Let  me  now  make  you  one  of  the  most  reasonable,  salu- 
tary, and  advantageous  proposals  that  Heaven  itself  can 
make  to  you ;  and  that  is,  that  you  endeavor  to  enter 
upon  this  new  year  as  new  creatures.  Let  the  old  man 
with  his  affections  and  lusts  die  with  the  old  year.     Ld  the 


A   SERMON   ON"   THE   NEW   YEAR.  207 

time  past  of  your  life  more  than  suffice  you  to  have  wrought  the 
will  of  the  flesh.  What  profit  have  you  then  in  those  things 
of  ivhich  you  shall  noio  he  ashamed?  How  shocking  the 
thouglit  that  your  old  guilt  should  follow  into  the  new  year, 
and  haunt  you  in  future  times  !  O  begin  this  year  as  you 
would  wish  to  end  your  life !  Begin  it  so  as  to  give  hopes 
that  your  time  will  be  so  spent  as  to  render  death  harmless, 
and  ever  welcome  to  you.  Let  the  possibility  suggested 
in  my  text  have  due  weight  with  you :  This  year  you 
may  die. 

But  perhaps  some  of  you  may  be  inverting  this  consid- 
eration, and  whispering  to  yourselves,  "  This  year  I  may 
not  die,"  and  therefore  there  is  no  immediate  necessity  of 
preparation  for  death.  But  what  if  you  should  not  die  this 
year,  if  you  still  delay  the  great  work  for  which  time 
is  given  you  ?  Alas !  if  you  persist  in  this,  one  would 
think  it  can  give  you  but  little  pleasure  whether  you  die 
this  year  or  not  ?  What  end  will  your  life  answer,  but  to 
add  to  your  guilt,  and  increase  your  punishment  ?  What 
safety  can  another  year  afford  you,  when  you  must  die  at 
last?  What  valuable  end  do  you  intend  to  answer  in 
future  life?  Do  you  propose  to  spend  this  year  as  you 
have  your  past  years?  What!  in  offending  your  God! 
abusing  his  mercies !  neglecting  the  precious  seasons  of 
grace !  hardening  yourselves  more  and  more  in  impenitence ! 
adding  sin  to  sin,  and  treasuring  up  wrath  against  the  day 
of  wrath !  Is  it  worth  your  while  to  live  for  such  horrid, 
preposterous  purposes  as  these  ?  Can  you  wish  for  another- 
year  with  these  views  ?  Could  you  venture  to  pray  for  it  ? 
Will  the  pra3^er  bear  to  be  put  down  in  words  ?  Come, 
put  on  the  hardness  of  an  infernal  ghost,  that  you  may  be 
able  to  support  yourselves  under  the  horror  of  the  sound. 
"  Thou  supreme  Excellence !  Thou  Author  of  my  being, 
and  all  my  powers !  Thou  Father  of  all  my  mercies !  Thou 
righteous  Judge  of  the  world !  I  have  spent  ten,  twenty, 
or  thirty  years  in  displeasing  thee  and  ruining  myself;  but 
I  am  not  yet  satisfied  with  the  pleasures  of  such  a  conduct. 
Grant  me,  I  pray  thee,  another  year  to  spend  in  the  same 
manner.  Grant  me  more  mercies  to  abuse ;  more  time  to 
misspend;  more  means  of  grace  to  neglect  and  profane." 
Could  you  now  fall  on  your  knees,  and  present  such  peti- 
tions to  Heaven?  Surely  you  could  not.  Surely  your 
frame  would  shudder ;  nay,  would  not  the  heavens  gather 

10* 


208  A  SERMON   ON  THE  NEW  YEAR. 

blackness,  and  the  earth  tremble  at  the  sound !  But  have 
your  temper  and  practice  no  language?  Language  ex- 
presses the  thoughts  and  intentions  of  the  mind ;  and  are 
not  the  habitual  temper  and  practice  a  more  certain  dis- 
covery of  the  thoughts  and  intentions  than  mere  words? 
words,  which  may  be  spoken  without  a  thought,  or  in  a 
passion,  and  which,  may  soon  be  heartily  retracted  ?  But 
the  temper  and  practice  is  a  steady  and  sure  rule  of  judg- 
ing, and  decisive  of  a  man's  predominant  character  ? 
Therefore,  while  your  temper  and  practice  are  agreeable 
to  your  prayer ;  that  is,  while  you  are  disposed  to  spend 
your  time  that  God  gives  you  in  sin  and  impenitence,  you 
are  perpetually  insulting  Heaven  with  such  petitions,  and 
that  too  in  a  manner  much  more  expressive  and  strong 
than  if  you  should  utter  them  in  words.  And  can  you 
quietly  bear  the  thought  of  this  horrid  blasphemy,  which 
you  are  constantly  breathing  out  against  Heaven?  Can 
you  wish  and  pray  for  another  year  for  this  purpose? 
What  though  you  should  not  die  this  year?  Will  this 
exempt  you  from  death  in  another,  or  from  the  punishment 
of  a  misspent  life  ?  Alas !  no ;  this  will  only  render  j^ou 
a  greater  criminal,  a  more  miserable  wretch  in  eternity. 
One  year  of  sinning  will  make  a  dreadful  addition  to  your 
account. 

Therefore  conclude,  every  one  for  himself,  ''  It  is  of  little 
importance  to  me  whether  I  die  this  year,  or  not ;  but  the 
only  important  point  is,  that  I  may  make  a  good  use  of 
my  future  time,  whether  it  be  longer  or  shorter."  This, 
'my  brethren,  is  the  only  way  to  secure  a  happy  new  year : 
a  year  of  time,  that  will  lead  the  way  to  a  happy  eternity. 


KELIGION   THE   HIGHEST   WISDOM,    ETC.  209 


XX. 

•    RELIGION  THE  HIGHEST  WISDOM,  AND  SIN  THE  GREATEST 
MADNESS  AND  FOLLY. 

"  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom  ;  a  good  understanding 
have  all  they  that  do  his  commandments.'' — Psalm  iii.  10. 

Wisdom  is  a  character  so  honorable  and  ornamental  to 
a  reasonable  being,  that  those  who  best  know  the  dignity 
of  their  own  nature,  have  had  no  higher  ambition  than  t@ 
be  esteemed  and  called  lovers  of  it. 

This  little  world  of  ours  is  an  improved  spot  in  the  crea- 
tion. How  vastly  different  an  appearance  does  it  now 
make  from  its  original  state  of  pure  nature,  when  it  emerged 
out  of  chaos,  uncultivated  by  art !  What  numerous  arts 
and  trades  have  been  found  out  to  furnish  life  with  neces- 
saries and  comforts !  How  deeply  have  some  penetrated 
into  the  world  of  knowledge !  They  hav^  traced  the  se- 
cret workings  of -nature;  the}^  have  even  brought  intelli- 
gence from  the  worlds  above  us,  and  discovered  the  courses 
and  revolutions  of  the  planets. 

When  we  see  these  discoveries,  you  would  conclude 
mankind  to  be  a  wise  race  of  creatures ;  and  indeed  in  such 
things  as  these  they  discover  no  inconsiderable  abilities. 
Almost  every  man  in  his  province  can  manage  his  affairs 
with  some  judgment.  Some  can  manage  a  farm ;  others 
are  dexterous  in  mechanics ;  others  have  a  turn  for  mercan- 
tile affairs ;  others  can  unfold  the  mysteries  of  nature,  and 
carry  their  searches  far  into  the  ideal  worlds ;  others  can 
conduct  an  army,  or  govern  a  nation.  In  short,  every 
man  forms  some  scheme  which  he  apprehends  will  conduce 
to  his  temporal  advancement ;  and  prosecutes  with  some 
degree  of  judgment. 

But  is  this  all  the  wisdom  that  becomes  a  candidate  for 
eternity?  Has  he  a  good  understanding  who  only  acts 
with  reason  in  the  affairs  of  this  life ;  but,  though  he  is  to 
exist  for  ever  in  another  world,  and  to  be  perfectly  happy 
or  miserable  there,  yet  takes  no  thought  about  the  concerns 


210  RELIGION   THE   HIGHEST   WISDOM, 

of  his  immortal  state  ?  Is  this  wisdom  ?  Is  this  consistent 
even  with  common  sense?  ISTo ;  with  sorrow  and  solemnity 
I  would  speak  it,  the  most  of  men  in  this  respect  are  fools 
and  madmen;  and  it  is  impossible  for  the  most  frantio 
madmen  in  Bedlam  to  act  more  foolishly  about  the  affairs 
of  religion  and  eternity.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  a  partial 
madness ;  a  person  may  have,  as  it  were,  one  weak  side  to 
his  mind,  and  it  may  be  sound  and  rational  in  other  re- 
spects. You  may  meet  with  some  lunatics  and  madmen 
that  will  converse  reasonably  with  you,  and  you  would  not 
suspect  their  heads  are  disordered,  till  you  touch  upon 
some  particular  point,  and  then  you  are  to  expect  reason 
from  them  no  more ;  they  talk  the  wildest  nonsense,  and 
are  governed  entirely  by  their  imaginations.  They  are 
wise  for  this  world ;  they  talk  and  act  at  least  agreeably 
to  common  sense ;  but  hear  them  talk,  and  observe  their 
conduct  about  the  concerns  of  their  souls,  and  you  can 
call  them  reasonable  creatures  no  longer.  They  are  luise  to 
do  evil ;  hut  to  do  good  they  have  no  knowledge  ;  there  is  none 
that  undersiaiideth ;  there  is  none  that  seeketh  after  God.  To 
bring  them  to  themselves  by  exposing  to  them  their  mad- 
ness, is  my  present  design.  The  text  shows  us  the  first 
step  to  true  wisdom,  and  the  test  of  common  sense.  The 
fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  heginning  of  tvisdom  ;  a  good  under- 
standing have  all  they  that  do  his  commandments.  The  fear 
of  the  Lord,  in  Scripture,  signifies  not  only  that  pious  pas- 
sion of  filial  reverence  of  our  adorable  Father  who  is  in 
heaven,  but  it  is  frequently  put  for  the  whole  of  practical 
religion ;  hence  it  is  explained  in  the  last  part  of  the  verse, 
by  doing  his  commandments.  The  fear  of  the  Lord,  in  this 
latitude,  implies  all  the  graces  and  all  the  virtues  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  in  short,  all  that  holiness  of  heart  and  life  which 
is  necessary  to  the  enjoyment  of  everlasting  happiness. 
So  that  the  sense  of  the  text  is  this  :  "To  practice  religion 
and  virtue,  to  take  that  way  Avhich  leads  to  everlasting 
happiness,  is  wisdom,  true  wisdom,  the  beginning  of  wis- 
dom, the  first  step  towards  it ;  unless  you  begin  here,  you 
can  never  attain  it;  all  your  wisdom  without  this,  does 
not  deserve  the  name ;  it  is  madness  and  nonsense.  To 
do  his  commandments  is  the  best  test  of  a  good  under- 
standing ;  a  good  sound  understanding  have  all  they  that 
do  this,  all  of  them  without  exception :  however  weak 
some  of  them  may  be  in  other  things,  they  are  wise  in  the 


AND   SIN   THE   GREATEST   FOLLY.  211 

most  important  respects ;  but  without  this,  however  cun- 
ning they  are  in  other  things,  they  have  lost  their  under- 
standings ;  they  contradict  common  sense ;  and  there  can 
be  none  without  this." 

Wisdom  consists  in  two  things :  choosing  a  right  end, 
and  using  right  means  to  obtain  it.  Now  what  end  so  be- 
coming a  creature  to  live  for  ever,  as  everlasting  happiness? 
And  in  what  way  can  it  be  obtained,  but  in  the  way  of 
holiness?  Consult  the  judgment  of  God  in  his  Word; 
consult  your  own  conscience,  or  even  common  sense,  and 
you  will  find  that  this  is  the  case.  Therefore  he  is  a  man 
of  sense  that  pursues  this  end  in  this  way ;  but  he  is  a 
fool,  he  is  brutish,  that  chooses  an  inferior  end,  or  that 
pursues  this  in  another  way. 

My  time  will  not  allow  me  to  do  any  more  than  to  men- 
tion some  instances  of  folly  and  madness  of  such  as  do  not 
make  the  fear  of  the  Lord  the  beginning  of  wisdom. 

I.  Men  will  not  take  the  safest  side  in  religion,  which 
their  reason  and  self-love  carry  them  to  do  in  other  cases. 

It  is  very  possible  the  love  of  ease  and  pleasure,  and  a 
self-flattering  disposition,  may  prompt  your  invention  to 
form  a  plausible  system  of  religion ;  a  religion  that  admits 
of  great  hopes  with  little  evidences,  and  that  allows  you 
many  indulgences  and  lays  few  restraints  upon  you;  a 
religion  purged,  as  you  imagined,  from  some  of  the  mel- 
ancholy and  gloomy  doctrines  of  Christianity,  and  that 
releases  you  from  those  restraints,  so  painful  to  a  wicked 
heart,  which  the  holy  religion  of  Jesus  lays  upon  you.  It 
is  very  possible  you  may  hope  you  shall  obtain  eternal 
happiness  without  much  pains,  and  without  observing  the 
strictness  of  universal  holiness;  you  may  indulge  hopes 
of  heaven,  though  you  indulge  yourselves  willfully  in  sin  ; 
you  may  flatter  yourselves  that  the  punishments  of  a  future 
state  are  not  intolerably  dreadful,  nor  of  everlasting  dura- 
tion ;  you  may  excuse  and  diminish  your  sins,  and  make 
a  great  many  plausible  apologies  for  them.  But  are  you 
sure  of  these  things  ?  Have  you  demonstration  for  them, 
upon  which  you  may  venture  your  eternal  all?  Think 
the  matter  over  seriously  again ;  have  you  certainty  that 
these  things  are  so  ?  and  are  you  willing  to  perish  for  ever 
if  they  should  be  otherwise  ?  What  if  you  should  be  mis- 
taken ?  What  if  you  should  find  God  as  strict  and  holy 
as  his  Word  represents  him  ?     What  if  all  his  dreadful 


212  KELIGION   THE   HIGHEST   WISDOM, 

tlireatenings  should  be  sincere  and  true  ?  What  if  in  a  little 
time  you  should  find  that  the  Scriptures  give  a  more  just 
account  of  the  punishments  of  hell  than  your  self- flattering 
heart  suggested  to  you,  and  that  they  are  indeed  intolera- 
ble and  strictly  eternal?  What  if  you  should  find,  when 
it  is  too  late  to  correct  the  mistake,  that  those  neglected, 
ridiculed  things,  regeneration,  conversion,  holiness  of  heart 
and  practice,  the  mortification  of  sin,  and  a  laborious  course 
of  devotion — what  if  you  should  find  that  they  are  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  everlasting  happiness?  What  if  it 
should  appear  that  the  willful  indulgence  of  the  least-known 
sin  will  eternally  ruin  you?  Stand  and  pause,  and  ask 
yourselves,  what  if  you  should  find  matters  thus,  quite  the 
reverse  to  what  you  flattered  yourselves  ?  What  will  be- 
come of  you  then  ?  You  are  undone,  irreparably  undone 
through  eternity.  Well,  to  speak  modestly,  this  may  be 
the  case,  for  what  you  know ;  and  is  it  not  then  the  part 
of  a  wise  man  to  provide  against  such  dreadful  contin- 
gency ?  Will  you  run  so  terrible  a  risk,  and  yet  claim  a 
good  understanding?  Do  you  esteem  a  life  of  religion  so 
burdensome,  that  you  had  better  make  such  a  desperate 
venture  than  choose  it?  Do  you  esteem  the  pleasures  of 
sin  so  sweet,  so  solid,  so  lasting,  that  it  is  your  interest  to 
run  the  risk  of  intolerable,  eternal  misery,  rather  than 
part  with  them  ?  He  is  certainly  not  in  his  right  mind, 
that  would  rather  be  tormented  in  hell  for  ever,  than  lead 
a  holy  life,  and  labor  to  escape  the  wrath  to  come.  There- 
fore act  in  this  as  you  do  in  other  cases  of  uncertainty, 
choose  the  safest  side.  Believe  and  regard  what  God  has 
said ;  be  holy  in  all  manner  of  conversation ;  strive  with 
all  your  might  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate ;  accept  of 
Christ  as  your  Lord  and  Saviour.  Do  this,  and  you  are 
safe,  let  the  case  be  as  it  will;  there  are  no  bad  conse- 
quences that  can  possibly  follow  from  this  conduct.  But  if 
you  are  resolutely  set  upon  running  the  risk,  and  fool-hardy 
enough  to  venture  your  eternal  all  upon  such  improba- 
bility, not  to  say  impossibilities,  y?)u  forfeit  the  character 
of  a  reasonable  being ;  you  are  mad  in  this  respect,  how- 
ever wise  you  may  be  in  others. 

II.  Is  it  not  the  greatest  folly  to  believe,  or  profess  to 
believe,  the  greatest  truths  of  religion,  and  yet  act  quite 
contrary  to  such  a  belief? 

How  many  are  there  who  own  God  to  be  the  greatest 


AND   SIN   THE   GREATEST   POLLY.  213 

and  tlie  best  of  beings,  and  yet  negleSt  him.  They  own 
him  lovely,  and  do  not  love  him ;  their  King,  and  they  do 
not  obey  him ;  and  their  Benefactor,  and  make  no  returns 
of  gratitude  to  him.  They  confess  that  heaven  is  better 
than  earth,  and  yet  they  pursue  the  things  of  this  life,  to 
the  neglect  of  the  happiness  of  heaven.  They  believe 
their  souls  are  of  more  importance  than  their  bodies ;  and 
yet  they  will  not  take  half  the  care  about  them  that  they 
take  about  their  bodies.  They  confess  that  a  life  of  sin 
and  impenitence  is  very  dangerous,  and  that  it  will  end  in 
everlasting  misery;  yet,  with  this  confession  in  their 
mouths,  and  this  conviction  in  their  consciences,  they  will, 
they  obstinately  will  go  on  impenitently  in  sin.  They 
believe  that  all  the  pleasures  of  this  transitory  life  are 
infinitely  inferior  to  the  pleasures  of  religion  and  the  hap- 
piness of  the  heavenly  state ;  they  believe  these  pleasures 
will  ruin  them  for  ever  if  they  continue  in  them,  and  yet 
they  will  persist  in  them,  though  by  this  they  throw  away 
their  everlasting  happiness,  and  incur  eternal  misery !  Thus 
they  believe,  or  profess  to  believe ;  and  our  country  is  full 
of  such  believers;  but  what  absurd,  self-contradicting 
creatures  are  they !  What  madness  is  it  to  entertain  a 
belief  that  answers  no  other  end  but  to  condemn  their 
practice,  and  aggravate  their  sin  !  Do  they  really  believe 
these  things,  or  do  they  not?  if  not,  what  folly  is  it  to 
profess  to  believe  them  ?  Do  they  think  to  impose  by  an 
empty  profession  on  Him  who  searches  the  hearts  and  the 
reins  ?  But  if  you  suppose  they  believe  these  things,  it  is 
certain  they  are  entirely  mad  in  this  affair.  What!  to 
neglect  God,  and  holiness,  and  heaven,  when  they  know 
they  are  of  infinite  importance !  to  choose  the  ways  of  sin, 
when  they  believe  they  will  end  in  ruin !  Is  this  the  part 
of  a  wise  man  ? 

III.  Is  it  not  the  greatest  folly  for  men  to  pretend  to 
love  God,  when  their  temper  and  conduct  are  inconsistent 
with  it,  and  plainly  evidential  of  the  contrary  ? 

If  you  go  round  the  world  with  the  question,  "Do  you 
love  God  ?  do  you  love  him  above  all  ?"  you  will  hardly 
meet  with  any  one  but  what  will  answer,  "Yes,  to  be  sure; 
I  have  loved  him  all  my  life."  Well,  but  where  are  the 
evidences  and  effects  of  this  love  ?  If  you  pretend  friend- 
ship to  men,  they  expect  the  expressions  of  it  from  j^ou 
on  every  occasion ;  otherwise  they  will  see  through  the 


214  RELIGION   THE   HIGHEST   WISDOM, 

pretence,  and  pronounce  it  flattery.  They  expect  you 
should  often  think  of  them  with  tender  affection,  perform 
them  all  the  kind  offices  in  your  power,  study  to  please 
them,  to  be  tender  of  their  characters,  solicitous  about 
their  interest,  and  delight  in  their  society.  These  are  the 
inseparable  effects  of  love ;  certainly,  if  you  love-God,  your 
love  will  have  such  effects,  especially  since,  if  you  love  him 
at  all  with  sincerity,  you  love  him  above  all  other  persons 
and  things.  But  men  will  insist  upon  it  that  they  love 
him  above  all,  and  yet  very  seldom  or  never  think  of  him 
with  tender  affection ;  they  love  him  above  all,  and  yet 
indulge  themselves  in  sin,  that  abominable  thing  which  he 
hates ;  they  love  him  above  all,  and  yet  have  no  pleasure 
in  conversing  with  him  in  prayer,  and  the  other  ordinances 
of  his  grace  where  he  holds  spiritual  interviews  with  his 
people.  Indeed,  it  may  astonish  any  man  that  knows  what 
love  is,  to  find  that  the  most  of  men  pretend  they  love 
God,  even  while  they  are  giving  the  most  glaring  evidences 
of  disaffection  to  him;  and  after  all,  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  convince  them  that  they  do  not  thoroughly  love 
him.  What  madness  has  seized  the  world,  that  they  will 
not  receive  conviction  in  such  a  plain  case !  What  mean 
thoughts  must  they  have  of  God,  when  they  think  to  put 
him  off  with  such  an  empty  compliment,  and  hypocritical 
profession ! 

TV.  Is  it  not  the  greatest  folly  for  men  to  hope  for 
heaven,  when  they  have  no  evidences  at  all  of  their  title 
to  it,  or  fitness  for  it  ?  Is  it  not  the  dictate  of  common 
sense,  that  no  man  can  be  happy  in  any  thing  but  what  he 
has  a  relish  for,  and  delights  in  ? 

There  are  thousands  who  have  no  relish  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  God,  no  pleasure  in  thinking  of  him,  no  delight 
in  his  service  and  acts  of  devotion,  who  yet  hope  to  be 
for  ever  happy  in  these  exercises  in  heaven.  The  happi- 
ness of  heaven,  as  I  have  often  told  you,  consists  in  such 
things  as  these,  and  how  can  you  hope  to  be  happy  there, 
while  you  have  no  pleasure  in  them !  There  are  thousands 
who  have  no  delight  in  any  thing  holy  and  religious,  but 
only  in  the  gratifications  of  their  senses,  and  the  enjoyment 
of  earthly  things,  who  yet  hope  to  be  happy  in  heaven,  in 
the  wants  of  all  sensual  and  earthly  enjoyment.  And 
have  they  a  sound  understanding  who  can  entertain  such 
absurd  hopes  ?     Does  not  common  sense  tell  us,  that  God, 


AND  SIN  THE   GREATEST  FOLLY.  215 

who  does  every  thing  wisely,  will  bring  none  to  heaven, 
but  those  whom  he  has  made  fit  for  it  beforehand  ?  and 
that  as  none  shall  be  sent  to  hell  but  those  that  were  pre- 
viously wicked,  so  none  shall  be  admitted  into  the  world 
of  glory,  but  those  who  were  previously  made  holy? 
None  first  begin  to  be  holy  in  heaven,  or  wicked  in  hell : 
both  parties  bring  with  them  those  dispositions  which  are 
fit  for  their  respective  places  and  employments.  How 
absurd  is  it  therefore  to  hope  for  heaven,  while  you  have 
no  heavenly  dispositions !  You  may  as  well  hope  to  see 
the  sun  without  eyes.  Further,  God  has  assured  you  in 
his  Word,  and  you  profess  to  believe  him,  that  without 
regeneration,  faith,  repentance,  an  interest  in  Christ,  and 
universal  holiness,  you  cannot  enter  into  his  kingdom; 
and  yet  are  there  not  some  of  you  who  are  foolish  enough 
to  hope  for  it,  though  destitute  of  all  these  ?  Has  he  not 
told  you  that  drunkards,  swearers,  unclean,  malicious,  con- 
tentious persons,  liars,  and  the  like,  shall  not  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  ?  And  yet,  though  you  know  these 
are  your  characters,  and  the  world  knows  it  too,  you  will 
hope  for  admission  to  it,  in  defiance  of  God's  most  express 
repeated  declarations !     What  madness  is  this ! 

V.  And  lastly,  Is  it  not  the  greatest  madness  to  be  more 
concerned  about  the  affairs  of  time  than  those  of  eternity  ? 

It  is  plain  to  any  man  in  his  senses,  that  the  happiness 
and  misery  which  are  extreme,  and  which  shall  endure 
for  ever,  are  of  infinitely  greater  importance  than  all  the 
enjoyments,  and  all  the  sufferings  of  this  transitory  state. 
And  you  will  hardly  meet  with  any  man  but  will  own  this 
to  be  his  belief  But  alas !  into  what  consternation  may  it 
strike  us,  when  we  survey  the  conduct  of  the  generality ! 
Are  they  as  much  concerned  about  the  eternal  world  to 
which  they  are  hastening,  as  to  the  concerns  of  time? 
Are  they  as  laborious  and  zealous  to  obtain  everlasting 
happiness,  as  to  gain  the  riches  of  this  world,  and  to 
gratify  their  sensual  appetites  ?  Are  they  as  solicitous  to 
avoid  everlasting  misery,  as  to  shun  sickness,  poverty,  or 
any  temporal  calamity  ?  Are  they  as  cautious  of  sinning, 
which  ruins  their  souls  for  ever,  as  of  drinking  poison, 
which  may  endanger  their  health  or  temporal  life  !  Do  not 
many  of  you  know  that  it  is  quite  the  reverse  with  you  ? 
Are  not  the  concerns  of  this  life  the  principal  objects  of 
your  thoughts,  your  cares,  and  labors?     And  wliat  can  be 


216  RELIGION   THE   HIGHEST   WISDOM 


a  more  consummate  folly  ?  You  practically  prefer  a  trifle 
of  an  hour  to  a  substantial  good  of  endless  duration.  You 
are  careless  about  everlasting  torment,  and  yet  cautiously 
shun  the  light  sufferings  of  a  few  moments.  It  matters 
not  what  you  think  or  say  in  this  matter ;  it  is  your  prac- 
tice that  determines  the  affair ;  and  does  not  that  show  that 
time  outweighs  a  vast  eternity  with  you?  And  what  can 
be  more  absurd !  if  you  should  prefer  pebbles  to  crowns 
and  kingdoms,  darkness  to  light,  or  one  luxurious  meal  to 
the  support  of  your  whole  life,  it  would  not  be  so  shocking 
a  piece  of  madness. 

I  might  give  you  many  instances  of  the  madness  of  those 
who  do  not  begin  this  wisdom  with  the  fear  of  the  Lord, 
but  the  inferences  from  the  subject  are  so  numerous  and 
important,  that  I  must  reserve  the  rest  of  the  time  for  them. 

1.  Since  there  is  so  much  folly  in  the  world  in  matters 
of  religion,  how  astonishing  is  it  that  it  is  not  universally 
contemned  and  ridiculed,  or  pitied  and  lamented !  If  men 
act  a  foolish  part  in  other  things,  they  soon  furnish  matter 
of  laughter  and  contempt  to  the  gay  and  witty  part  of  man- 
kind ;  and  the  thoughtf'ul  and  benevolent  view  them  with 
compassion.  But  let  them  act  ever  so  foolishly  in  the  con- 
cerns of  eternity,  there  is  hardly  any  notice  taken  of  it ; 
the  absurdity  is  no  way  shocking ;  the  generality  commend 
their  conduct,  by  imitating  it  themselves ;  and  if  any  are 
so  wise  as  to  find  fault  with  this  madness,  they  are  termed 
fools  themselves,  and  the  general  laugh  is  turned  against 
them.  How  unaccountable  is  this,  that  men  who  act  pru- 
dently in  other  things,  and  are  easily  shocked  with  a  mad 
and  frantic  behavior,  can  view  the  folly  of  mankind  in 
this  respect  without  horror,  or  perhaps  with  approbation ! 
The  only  reason  for  it  is,  that  the  generality  are  madmen 
in  this  respect,  and  the  folly  is  approved  because  it  is  com- 
mon. To  be  singularly  wise  is  to  be  foolish,  in  the  opinion 
of  the  world ;  and  to  be  fools  with  the  multitude,  is  the 
readiest  way  to  get  the  reputation  of  wisdom.  They  prove 
religion  to  be  folly,  by  a  majority  of  votes ;  and  as  many 
who  are  fools  in  this  affair,  are  wise  in  other  respects,  their 
judgment  is  implicitly  submitted  to.  But  pray,  sirs,  use 
your  own  reason,  and  judge  impartially  for  yourselves,  and 
I  am  sure  you  must  see  the  wild  absurdity  of  their  conduct. 
Be  nobly  singular  in  beginning  wisdom,  with  the  fear  of 
the  Lord;  and  wliatever  others  think  of  you  now,  God, 


AND  SIN"  THE  GREATEST  FOLLY.         217 

angels,  and  good  men  will  applaud  your  wisdom;  and 
even  those  who  now  ridicule  it,  will  approve  of  it  at  last. 

2.  With  what  an  ill  grace  do  the  irreligious  contemn  and 
despise  those  that  make  religion  their  great  concern,  as 
weak,  silly  creatures !  Sinners,  let  your  own  reason  deter- 
mine, can  there  be  any  thing  more  foolish  than  your  own 
behavior  ?  And  does  it  become  you  to  brand  others  with 
the  odium  of  folly?  Alas!  you  have  reason  to* turn  your 
contempt  upon  yourselves,  and  to  be  struck  with  horror  at 
your  own  willful  stupidity.  Do  you  set  yourselves  up  as 
the  standards  of  wisdom,  who  want  sense  to  keep  out  of 
everlasting  ruin?  Are  you  wise  men,  who  throw  away 
your  eternal  happiness  for  the  trifles  of  time  ?  No,  they 
only  are  wise  who  are  wise  for  eternity.  You  may  excel 
them  in  a  thousand  things ;  nature  may  have  favored  you 
with  a  better  genius ;  you  may  have  had  a  more  liberal 
education;  you  maybe  better  acquainted  with  men  and 
books ;  you  may  manage  your  secular  affairs  with  more 
discretion ;  in  such  things  you  may  be  wiser  than  many  of 
them.  But  they  are  wise  for  eternity !  they  have  sense  to 
escape  everlasting  burnings  !■  they  have  wisdom  to  obtain 
everlasting  happiness  !  and  this  is  a  more  important  piece 
of  wisdom  than  all  your  acquisitions.  The  wisdom  of 
Solomon,  of  Socrates,  or  Plato  is  the  wildest  madness 
without  this. 

8.  If  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  religion,  is  the  perfection  of 
wisdom,  how  unreasonably  does  the  world  charge  it  with 
making  people  mad?  There  are  multitudes  that  lose  their 
senses  by  excessive  sorrows  and  anxieties  about  some  tem- 
poral affair ;  many  more  than  by  religion ;  and  yet  they 
never  fall  out  with  the  world  on  this  account.  But  when 
any  one,  that  seemed  thoughtful  about  religion,  loses  his 
senses,  then  religion  must  bear  all  the  blame ;  and  sinners 
are  glad  to  catch  at  such  a  handle  to  expose  it.  It  is 
indeed  very  possible  that  too  intense  application  of  the 
mind  to  divine  things,  with  a  deep  concern  about  our  ever- 
lasting state,  may  be  the  occasion  of  melancholy;  but 
there  is  nothing  peculiar  in  this ;  let  the  mind  be  exces- 
sively attentive  to  any  thing,  it  will  have  the  same  effect. 
How  man}^  disorders  do  men  contract  by  their  eager  pur- 
suit of  the  world?  and  yet  the  world  is  their  favorite  still. 
Those  that  are  pious,  are  many  of  them  much  superior  to 
the  wisest  of  us  in  all  accomplishments;  and  they  are  gen- 

10 


218  RELIGION  THE  HIGHEST  WISDOM,   ETC. 

erally  as  far  from  madness  as  their  neighbors.  Therefore 
drop  this  senseless  slander,  and  be  yourselves  holy,  if  you 
would  be  truly  wise. 

4.  Since  men  are  such  fools  in  matters  of  religion,  since 
they  censure  it  with  so  much  severity  and  contempt,  how 
astonishing  is  it  that  God  should  send  down  that  divine, 
heaven-born  thing,  religion,  into  our  world,  where  it  is  so 
much  neglected  and  abused !  Where  the  celestial  guest 
meets  with  but  few  hearts  that  will  entertain  it ;  where  its 
professors  neglect  it,  contradict  it,  and  by  their  practice 
call  it  madness ;  and  where  even  its  friends  and  subjects 
frequently  treat  it  very  unkindly !  What  astonishing  con- 
descension and  grace  is  it,  that  God  has  not  left  our  mad 
world  to  themselves,  since  they  are  so  averse  to  be  reclaimed  I 
But  lo !  he  hath  sent  his  Son,  he  hath  instituted  the  gos- 
pel, and  a  thousand  means  of  grace,  to  bring  them  to  them- 
selves 1 

5.  And  lastly,  Hence  we  may  infer,  that  human  nature 
is  exceedingly  depraved  and  disordered.  I  think  this  is  as 
plain  as  any  disorder  incident  to  the  body.  Men  are  uni- 
versally indisposed  as  to  religion  ;  the  same  natural  facul- 
ties, the  same  understanding,  will,  and  affections,  that 
render  us  able  to  act  with  prudence  in  the  affairs  of  this 
life,  are  also  sufficient  for  the  affiiirs  of  religion ;  but,  alas  I 
with  regard  to  this,  they  are  disordered,  though  they  exer- 
cise themselves  aright  about  other  things.  They  can 
acquire  the  knowledge  of  languages  and  sciences ;  but, 
alas!  they  have  no  disposition  to  know  God,  and  Jesus 
Christ  whom  he  has  sent.  They  understand  how  to  trade, 
and  carry  on  schemes  for  this  world ;  but  they  will  not  act 
wisely  for  eternity.  They  have  sense  enough  not  to  run 
into  the  fire,  or  to  drink  poison;  but  they  will  run  on  in 
the  ways  of  sin  to  everlasting  misery.  They  will  ask  tlie 
way  when  they  have  lost  themselves-,  but  how  hard  is  it 
to  bring  them  to  inquire,  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  la 
short,  they  can  contrive  with  prudence,  and  act  with  vigor, 
courage,  and  perseverance,  in  the  affairs  of  time;  but  in 
the  concerns  of  religion  q^iid  eternity  they  are  ignorant, 
stupid,  languid,  and  careless.  And  how  can  we  account 
for  this,  but  by  supposing  that  they  are  degenerate  crea- 
tures, and  that  their  nature  has  suffered  a  dreadful  shock 
by  the  fall,  which  has  deprived  them  of  their  senses? 
Alfiis  j  this.is  a  truth  too  evident  to  be  denied  | 


THE   DOOM   OF   THE   INCOEKIGIBLE   SINNEE.  219 


XXI. 

THE  DOOM  OF  THE  LNCORPJGIBLE  SINNER. 

"  He  thrit  being  often  reproved,  hardcHeth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  be  de- 
stroyed, and  that  without  remedy." — Proverbs,  xxix.  1. 

A  PROVERB  is  a  system  of  wisdom  in  miniature ;  it  is  a 
pertinent,  striking  observation,  expressed  in  a  few  words, 
that  may  be  the  more  easily  remembered;  and  often  in 
metaphorical  language,  that  it  may  be  the  more  entertaining. 
A  collection  of  proverbs  has  no  connection,  but  consists 
of  short,  independent  sentences,  each  of  which  makes  full 
sense  in  itself;  and  therefore,  in  explaining  them,  there  is 
no  need  of  explaining  the  context;  but  we  may  select  any 
particular  sentence,  and  consider  it  separably.  Such  a 
collection  of  wise  sayings  is  that  book  of  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures which  we  call  The  Proverbs  of  Solomon. 

Among  the  many  significant  and  weighty  sayings  of  this 
wisest  of  men,  the  solemn  monitory  proverb  in  my  text 
deserves  peculiar  regard  :  He  that  being  often  reprovedj  liard- 
eneih  Ids  neck,  shall  suddenly  he  destroyed,  and  that  loithout 
Temiedy.    ■ 

The  request  of  a  friend,  and  my  fears  that  this  proverb 
may  have  a  dreadful  accomplishment  upon  some  of  my 
hearers,  have  induced  me  to  make  it  the  subject  of  my 
meditations  for  the  present  hour.  And  0  !  that  the  event 
may  show  that  I  was  divinely  directed  in  the  choice ! 
This  proverb  may  be  accommodated  to  all  the  afiairs  of 
life.  In  whatever  course  a  man  blunders  on,  headstrong, 
and  regardless  of  advice  and  admonition,  whether  in  do- 
mestic aflt'airs,  in  trade,  in  politics,  in  war,  or  whatever  it 
be  he  pursues  by  wrong  measures  with  incorrigible  obsti- 
nacy, it  will  ruin  him  at  last,  as  far  as  the  matter  is  capable 
of  working  his  ruin.  To  follow  the  conduct  of  our  own 
folly,  and  refuse  the  advantage  we  might  receive  from  the 
wisdom  of  others,  discovers  pride  and  self-sufficiency; 
and  the  career  of  such  a  pursuit,  whatever  be  the  object, 
will   always   end   in  <lisappointment  and  confusion.     In 


220  THE   DOOM   OF   THE 

this  extent  perhaps,  this  adage  was  intended  by  Solomon, 
^vho  was  a  good  economist  and  politician,  and  well  skilled 
in  the  affairs  of  common  life,  as  well  as  those  of  religion. 
But  he  undoubtedly  intended  it  should  be  principally 
referred  to  matters  of  religion.  It  is  especially  in  these 
matters  it  holds  true  in  the  highest  sense;  that  he  that 
being  often  reproved,  hardeneth  himself,  shall  suddenly  he 
destroyed,  and  that  loithout  reraedy. 

He  that  being  often  reproved. — This  is  nndonbtedly  our 
character.  We  in  this  congregation  have  been  often  re- 
proved, and  that  in  various  forms,  and  by  various  monitors. 
We  have  been  reproved  from  heaven  -and  earth,  by  God, 
men,  and  our  own  consciences ;  and,  I  might  add,  by  the 
irrational  creation,  and  even  by  infernal  spirits. 

It  is  the  happiness  of  several  of  us  to  live  in  families 
where  we  are  often  reproved  and  admonished  with  the 
tender  affecting  address  of  a  father  and  a  master,  who  are 
deeply  concerned  that  their  children  and  domestics  should 
be  their  companions  in  the  heavenly  road,  and  be  effectually 
warned  from  the  alluring  paths  of  sin   and  ruin.     And 
have  not  our  affectionate  mothers  often  become  our  moni- 
tors, and  gently,  yet  powerfully  reproved  us  with   that 
forcible  eloquence  which  could  only  proceed  from  the  heart 
of  a  woman  and  a  mother ; — or  if  our  parents  have  been 
cruelly  deficient  in  this  noblest  office  of  love,  has  not  God 
raised  up  unexpected  reprovers  for  us,  in   a  brother,  a 
sister,  or  perhaps  a  poor  despised  slave?     And. who  can 
resist  the  force  of  an  admonition  from  such  an  unexpected 
quarter  ?     And  have  not  some  of  us  found  an  affectionate 
faithful  monitor  in  the  conjugal  state  ;  a  husband  or  a  wife, 
^  that  has  reproved  the  vices  or  the  negligence  and  careless- 
ness of  the  other  party ;  and,  by  a  striking  example  at  the 
least,  if  not  in  more  explicit  language,  given  the  alarm  to 
greater  diligence  and  concern  in  the  affairs  of  religion  and 
eternity  ?     Such  are  powerful,  though  modest  and  private 
assistants  to  the  ministers  of  the  gospel,  and  O !  that  they 
had  but  more  assistance  from  this  quarter !     But  to  return 
-—If  we  are  not  so  happy  as  to  be  agreeably  surrounded 
with  such  honest  reprovers  in  our  own  houses,  yet,  blessed 
bo  God,  we  live  in  a  neighborhood  where  we  may  meet 
with  one  of  them  here  and  there.     Has  not  a  pious  friend 
or  neighbor  dropt  a  word  now  and  then  in  conversation 
which  might  have  served,  and  perhaps  was  intended  as 


INCORRIGIBLE   SINNER.  221 

serious  admonition  to  you  ?  Alas !  have  you  never  had  a 
friend  in  the  world,  who  has  sometimes  taken  occasion  to 
talk  solemnly  and  pungently  with  you  about  the  neglected 
concerns  of  your  souls?  But  though  all  around  you,  both 
saints  and  sinners,  should  refuse  to  be  your  monitors,  how 
many  solemn  warnings  and  reproofs  have  you  had  from 
the  pulpit!  You  have  heard  many  ministers  of  Christ, 
who  have  been  your  solemn  admonishers  in  the  dread 
name  of  their  Master.  And  it  is  now  eleven  or  twelve 
years  since  I  have  begun  to  discharge  the  painful  and  un- 
acceptable office  of  a  reprover  of  sin  and  sinners  among 
you.  And  what  kind  and  liberal  assistance  have  I  received 
in  my  office,  from  the  other  side  of  the  vast  ocean,  in  the 
many  excellent  books  which  British  piety  and  charity 
have  furnished  us  with. 

Thus  have  you  been  reproved  by  men  from  all  quarters. 
And  certainly  so  loud,  so  general,  so  repeated  an  admoni- 
tion even  from  men  must  have  great  weight,  but  who  can 
resist  an  admonition  from  heaven !  Surely,  if  Jehovah  the 
great  Sovereign  of  the  universe,  condescends  to  be  your  re- 
prover, you  must  immediately  take  the  reproof,  and  set 
about  a  reformation.  Well,  this  office  he  has  condescended 
to  sustain.  He  has  himself  become  your  monitor ;  and  that 
in  various  ways,  both  mediately  and  immediately  :  medi- 
ately by  his  word  and  providence ;  and  immediately  by  his 
blessed  Spirit,  whose  office  it  is  to  reprove  the  world  of  sin. 

The  Word  of  God  has  reproved  you ;  has  honestly  laid 
before  you  the  destructive  consequences  of  sin,  and  de- 
nounced the  divine  displeasure  against  you  on  its  account. 
All  its  commands,  prohibitions,  and  dissuasives  of  various 
forms,  are  so  many  friendly  warnings  and  admonitions  to 
you.  In  short,  you  must  own  yourselves,  that  if  any  of 
you  go  on  obstinately  in  sin  and  perish,  it  will  not  be 
because  the  Word  of  God  did  not  act  a  faithful  part  to- 
wards you,  but  because  you  presumptuously  disregard  its 
most  solemn  and  affectionate  warnings. 

Again  :  God  has  often  reproved  you  by  his  providence. 
His  providence  has  kindly  chastised  you  vv^ith  personal  and 
relative  afflictions,  with  sickness  and  pains,  bereavements, 
losses,  and  disappointments.  Providence  has  admonislied 
you  with  the  striking  voice  of  sick  beds,  dying  groans, 
ghastly  corpses,  and  gaping  graves  in  your  families  or 
neighborhoods,  or  perhaps  in  both.     How  many  among  us 


222  THE   DOOM   OF  THE 

in  a  few  years  liave  been  brought  down  to  the  gates  of  the 
grave,  that  they  might  enter  into  serious  conference  with 
death  and  eternity,  which  they  were  so  averse  to  in  the 
giddy,  unthinking  hours  of  health  and  hurry  of  business ! 
And  what  signal,  unexpected  deliverance  has  Providence 
wrought  for  you  in  those  seasons  of  danger  and  distress, 
that  you  might  enjoy  a  longer  space  for  repentance !  How 
many  of  our  friends  and  neighbors  have  sickened  and 
died,  for  the  admonition  of  sinners !  They  are  gone  before, 
to  show  us  the  way,  and  put  us  in  mind  that  our  time  will 
soon  come. 

But  has  he  not  often  laid  aside  all  instruments,  and  re- 
proved you  more  immediately  by  his  Spirit  ?  Has  not  his 
Spirit  been  long  and  frequently  striving  with  you ;  reprov- 
ing you  of  sin ;  alarming  you  Avith  apprehensions  of  your 
clanger;  exciting  in  you  good  resolutions,  and  serious 
thoughts  of  reformation  ?  Has  not  the  blessed  Spirit  at 
times  borne  home  the  word  upon  your  hearts  with  unusual 
power,  and  roused  your  coiiscience  to  fall  upon  jou  with 
terrible,  though  friendly  violence  ?  Which  leads  me  to  add, 
You  have  been  your  own  monitors;  I  mean  your  con- 
sciences have  often  admonished  and  warned  you ;  have 
whispered  in  your  breasts,  that  "this  course  of  vioe  and 
irreligion  will  not  do ;  this  carelessness  and  indifference  in 
the  concerns  of  your  souls,  this  stupid  neglect  of  God  and 
eternal  things,  will  not  end  well."  Conscience  has  often 
honestly  pronounced  your  doom:  "Thou  art  a  guilty, 
wicked  creature,  under  the  displeasure  of  Gr-od.  Thou  art 
destitute  of  true  vital  religion,  and  hast  no  title  to  the 
divine  favor.  If  thou  die  in  this  condition,  thou  wilt  be 
undone  for  ever."  Thus  has  conscience  warned  3^ou  ;  and 
you  have,  no  doubt,  sometimes  agonized  under  its  chas- 
tisements. Though  you  have  preposterously  labored  to 
bribe  it,  or  suppress  it  by  violence ;  yet  it  has  still  borne 
at  least  a  faint  testimony  for  its  Master,  and  against  you. 

Nay,  even  infernal  spirits,  those  everlasting  enemies  of 
man  and  goodness,  may  serve  as  your  reprovers.  Can  you 
think  of  their  unwearied  roaming  over  the  earth,  in  quest 
of  souls  as  their  prey,  and  their  industry  to  do  mischief, 
without  blaming  your  own  negligence  to  save  souls  and  do 
good?  And  could  you  bear  the  lost  ghosts  of  3^our  own 
race,  who  are  now  shut  up  in  the  infernal  prison,  bursting  out 
into  despairing  cries,  and  bitterly  accusing  themselves  for 


INCORRIGIBLE    SINNER,  223 

tlieir  presumption  and  security,  their  lazy  delays,  misim- 
provement  of  time,  and  neglect  of  the  means  of  grace,  while 
upon  earth  ;  how  loud  and  striking  a  Vvrarning  would  this 
be  to  you,  who  are  now  walking  in  their  steps ! 

Thus,  my  brethren,  I  have  given  you  a  brief  list  of  your 
many  monitors.  And  who  can  stand  the  united  reproofs 
of  such  a  multitude?  Who  dare  set  himself  against  the 
admonition  of  earth,  heaven,  and  hell ;  of  God  and  all 
his  creatures  ?     Must  you  not  all  yield  to  the  warning  ? 

Solomon  supposes,  in  my  text,  that  a  man  may  be  often 
reproved,  and  yet  harden  his  nech ;  that  is,  obstinately  re- 
fuse submission  and  reformation.  A  stiff  neck  is  a  meta- 
phor often  used  in  Scripture,  to  signify  an  unyielding, 
incorrigible  spirit,  resolute  in  disobedience,  in  spite  of  all 
restraints;  in  spite  of  advice,  dissuasives,  and  reproofs. 
And  to  harden  the  neck,  is  to  confirm  one's  self  in  disobe- 
dience, in  spite  of  all  the  means  of  reformation.  Tt  is  to 
cherish  obstinacy,  to  despise  reproof,  and  resolve  to  follow 
a  headstrong,  impetuous  self-v/ill  at  all  adventures.  The 
metaphor  is  taken  from  an  unmanageable,  sullen  ox,  that 
will  not  bend  his  neck  to  the  yoke,  nor  kindly  draw  under 
it.  Thus,  nothing  but  a  sullen  and  senseless  beast  can 
represent  the  stupid,  unreasonable  conduct  of  that  man 
who  hardens  himself  in  sin,  against  the  strongest  dissua- 
sives and  reproofs  from  God  and  his  creatures. 

And  is  not  this  the  character  of  some  of  you  ?  I  am 
ver}^  unwilling  to  presume  such  bad  things  of  any  of  you; 
but  I  must  at  least  j^ut  it  to  your  consciences  to  determine, 
whether  it  be  so  or  not.  This  you  may  know  by  this  sin- 
gle inquiry,  whether  you  have  reformed  of  those  things  for 
which  you  have  been  reproved  ?  or  whether  you  still  ob- 
stinately persist  in  them,  in  opposition  to  the  most  striking 
admonitions?  The  profane  and  profligate  among  you  have 
often  been  reproved  for  your  vices;  your  drunkenness, 
swearing,  lying,  contempt  of  sacred  things,  and  other  im- 
moralities ;  but  do  you  not  still  obstinately  persist  in  the 
practice  of  them  ?  You  have  often  been  reproved  for  the 
neglect  of  the  worship  of  God  in  your  families,  and  the 
souls  of  your  domestics;  what  warm  remonstrances  have 
you  had  upon  this  head !  And  j^et,  have  you  not  prayer- 
less  families,  prayerless  mornings  and  evenings  still  ?  Have 
you  not  been  solemnly  warned  of  the  danger  of  neglecting, 
or  carelessly  attending  upon  the  means  of  grace  ?     And 


224  THE   D0Oi\[   OF   THE 

yet  you  are  negligent  and  careless  still !  Have  you  not 
been  earnestly  admonished  for  your  presumption  and  se- 
curity, your  entertaining  high  hopes  of  future  happiness, 
and  that  you  are  genuine  Christians,  at  random,  without 
honest  trial  and  repeated  self-examination !  And  yet  do 
not  some  of  you  still  persist  in  this  stupid,  pernicious  con- 
duct ?  Alas !  how  ignorant  of  your  own  true  character  ! 
How  unwillingly  are  you  dragged  to  the  bar  of  conscience, 
there  to  be  tried,  and  hear  your  sentence !  How  ready  are 
you  to  flatter  yourselves  with  pleasing  expectations,  though 
in  reality  contrary  to  the  declarations  of  eternal  truth ! 
And  how  secure  and  thoughtless  are  you  about  the  great 
concerns  of  religion  and  eternity !  How  often  and  how 
solemnly  have  you  been  "reproved  for  your  excessive  eager- 
ness and  avarice  in  the  pursuit  of  this  vain  world,  and  your 
.stupid  neglect  to  lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heaven, 
and  to  be  rich  towards  God !  And  yet,  is  not  this  enchant- 
ing world  your  favorite,  and  the  idol  of  your  heart  still  ? 
That  one  expostulation  from  "Christ  himself  might  have 
been  an  irresistible  rebuke  to  you.  What  shall  it  profit  a 
man,  if  M  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  oiun  soiU?  or 
lohat  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  sotd?  But,  alas  ! 
have  you  stood  out  against  this,  and  a  thousand  other  pun- 
gent admonitions  ?  Have  you  not  often  had  the  dreadful 
guilt  and  danger  of  making  light  of  Christ  and  his  precious 
gospel,  of  delaying  your  conversion  to  some  uncertain 
hereafter,  and  of  presuming  upon  the  mercy  and  patience 
of  God,  exposed  to  your  view  in  a  striking  light  ?  And 
yet  you  have  still  persisted  in  the  practice,  in  spite  of  re- 
proof and  conviction.  I  might  easily  multiply  instances 
on  this  head,  but  these  must  suffice  as  specimens  for  the 
present ;  and  I  shall  only  add  this  general  rule  for  your 
further  conviction,  that  whatever  sin  you  indulge  your- 
selves in,  whatever  duty  you  omit,  whatever  grace  or  vir- 
tue you  live  destitute  of,  in  opposition  to  the  convictions 
of  your  own  minds  within,  and  of  the  reproofs  and  admo- 
nitions of  God  and  man  from  without,  you  are  then  guilty 
of  hardening  your  neck. 

And  if  this  be  the  case,  how  many  of  you  arc  involved 
in  this  guilt?  Lay  your  hand  upon  your  heart,  and  say, 
does  not  conscience  whisper,  or  perhaps  clamor,  "Guilty! 
guilty !"  It  is  strange,  it  is  unaccountable,  it  is  horrible, 
that  there  should  be  such  a  monster  upon  eai'th,  on  whom 


INCORRIGIBLE   SINNER.  225 

the  repeated  reproofs  and  warnings  of  God  and  liis  fellow- 
creatures  have  been  thrown  away ;  and  who  dares  singly 
to  stand  it  out  against  the  whole  universe !  But,  alas !  are 
there  not  many  such  monsters  among  us?  To  reprove 
them  again  is  a  very  unpromising  and  almost  desperate  at- 
tempt ;  for  they  have  been  so  inured  to  it,  that  they  are 
hardened  against  it,  and  set  it  at  defiance.  Yet  duty  and 
compassion  constrain  us  to  make  the  attempt  once  more ; 
for  O  !  we  cannot  give  them  up  as  altogether  desperate, 
nor  resign  them  with  willing  hands  as  a  tame  prey  to  ruin. 
I  know  no  other  way  to  bring  them  out  of  danger  but  to 
make  them  sensible  of  it.  And  this  I  shall  attempt,  in  il- 
lustrating the  remaining  part  of  the  text,  which  informs  us 
of  the  plain  truth,  that  he  that  being  often  reproved,  hard- 
eneth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  be  destroyed,  or  broken, 
and  that  without  remedy  ;  or,  "  and  there  is  no  cure."  The 
stiff  neck  that  will  not  bend  to  the  yoke  of  obedience,  must 
be  broken :  it  may  harden  itself  into  insensibility  under 
reproof;  but  O !  it  cannot  harden  itself  into  insensibility 
under  divine  judgments.  It  may  refuse  the  easy  and  gen- 
tle yoke  of  the  divine  law,  but  divine  justice  will  forcibly 
impose  its  iron  yoke  upon  it,  and  constrain  it  to  bow  till 
it  be  broken.  This  is  the  doom  of  the  obstinate,  incorrigi- 
ble sinner ;  thus  shall  he  be  destroyed  or  broken  to  pieces. 

But  this  is  not  all  :  he  shall  suddenly  be  destroyed — sud- 
denly broken.  Sudden  ruin  is  aggravated,  because  it 
strikes  a  man  into  a  consternation,  overtakes  him  una- 
wares, surprises  him  at  a  disadvantage,  when  unprovided 
with  any  methods  to  escape;  and  also  tears  all  his  pleasing 
hopes  from  him.  Till  he  feels  the  stroke,  he  would  not 
believe  it  was  coming ;  and  therefore  his  destruction  is 
sudden,  surprising,  and  confounding. 

Reproofs  and  admonitions  from  God  and  men,  and  our 
own  ^consciences,  are  the  great  means  to  recover  sinners: 
and  while  these  are  ineffectual,  no  other  can  possibly  have 
any  effect.  How  can  he  be  reclaimed  from  sin,  who  will 
sin  in  opposition  to  the  checks  of  conscience,  and  the  stri- 
vings of  the  Holy  Spirit  within,  and  the  united  dissuasives 
and  rebukes  of  Providence,  of  the  Word  of  God,  and  of  his 
friends  from  without !  It  is  unavoidable,  that  he  should 
suddenly  be  destroyed ;  and  there  is  no  help  for  it ;  he 
must  be  given  up  as  an  incurable.  The  whole  universe 
may  look  on,  and  pity  him ;  but,  alas !  they  cannot  help 


226  THE   DOOM   OF   THE 

him ;  lie  has  the  instrument  of  self-murder  in  his  own 
hand ;  and  he  will  not  part  with  it,  but  uses  it  against  his 
own  life,  without  control ;  and  none  can  take  it  out  of  his 
hand  ;  that  is,  none  can  give  his  free-will  a  new  turn,  but 
that  God  whom  he  is  daily  offending,  and  who  is  therefore 
not  obliged  to  obtrude  such  a  favor  upon  him. 

This  is  the  unavoidable  doom  of  the  man  that  being 
often  reproved  hardeneth  his  neck.  And  since  this  is  the 
character  of  some  of  you,  have  you  not  reason  to  fear  and 
forebode  this  tremendous  doom? 

Your  danger  will  appear  from  these  two  considerations, 
that  if  you  always  continue  in  your  present  condition, 
pi-oof  against  all  admonition,  you  must  be  destroyed  with- 
out remedy ;  and  that  there  is  dreadful  reason  to  fear,  you 
always  will  continue  in  your  present  condition. 

That  if  you  live  and  die  in  your  present  condition,  you 
must  be  destroyed  without  remedy,  is  lamentably  evident 
from  what  has  been  said.  It  is  the  declaration  of  the 
wisest  of  men,  inspired  from  heaven ;  he  that  being  often 
repyoved,  hardeneth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  he  broken,  and 
there  is  no  remedy.  Your  destruction  is  unavoidable  and 
remediless,  according  to  the  nature  of  things ;  it  is  the 
natural,  spontaneous,  and  inseparable  result  and  effect  of 
incorrigible  obstinacy.  You  resolutely  set  your  free  wills, 
which  are  not  under  the  control  of  any  creature  but  your- 
selves, upon  your  own  ruin ;  and  what  then  remains  but 
that  you  must  be  ruined !  To  ruin  you  must  go,  though 
attended  with  the  prayers  and  tears  of  the  saints,  and 
checked  by  their  friendly  admonitions,  enforced  with  those 
of  God  himself.  They  cannot  help  you  against  your  wills. 
AYhat  can  keep  you  from  ingulfing  yourselves  in  destruc- 
tion, when  you  break  through  all  restraints  from  God  and 
the  whole  creation?  You  reject  the  only  means  of  cure  ; 
and  must  you  not  die  as  incurables !  If  the  Spirit  of  God 
strives  with  you  in  vain ;  if  conscience  check  and  admonish 
you  in  vain ;  if  Providence  uses  its  chastising  rod  in  vain ; 
if  sickness,  and  death,  and  graves  preach  in  vain  ;  if  Bibles 
and  good  books  are  put  into  your  hands  in  vain ;  if  minis- 
ters, and  friends,  and  neighbors,  and  the  nearest  relatives, 
advise,  and  persuade,  and  warn,  and  reprove  in  vain  ;  if 
heaven,  and  earth,  and  hell,  if  God  and  all  his  creatures 
admonish  in  vain,  what  hopes  can  yourselves  entertain  of 
your  salvation?  what  better  means  can  you  desire?    what 


INCORRIGIBLE   SINNER.  227 

other  means  can  you  expect  ?  can  you  hope  to  be  reformed 
and  prepared  for  heaven,  when  these  means,  the  best,  the 
only  means  that  ever  were  used  with  sinful  creatures,  and 
which  have  proved  effectual  in  the  most  discouraging 
cases,  have  no  effect  upon  you  ?  Judge  yourselves,  whether 
your  destruction  is  not  unavoidable  in  your  present  con- 
dition. 

And  that  you  will  always  continue  in  your  present  con- 
dition, is,  alas !  but  too  probable.  You  have  continued  in 
it  all  your  life  past ;  and  is  not  this  a  dreadful  presumption 
that  you  will  continue  in  it  all  your  life  to  come !  Can 
you  expect  better  means  than  you  have  had  ?  Or  are  your 
hearts  become  more  soft  and  pliable  now,  when  hardened 
by  an  obstinate  course  of  incorrigible  impenitence,  that 
you  should  hope  the  same  means  will  have  greater  ef&cacy 
upon  them  in  time  to  come  than  formerly?  Are  you  as 
sure  of  twenty'  or  thirty  years  before  you,  as  that  you 
have  enjoyed  twenty  or  thirty  years  in  time  past  ?  Is  Grod 
the  less  provoked  by  how  much  the  longer  you  have 
offended  him,  so  that  you  have  more  encouragement  to 
expect  the  assistance  of  his  grace  hereafter  than  formerly  ? 
Are  you  now  any  more  out  of  danger  of  being  judicially 
hardened  and  given  up  of  God,  than  ten  years  ago  ?  And 
are  you  more  sure  of  his  favor,  by  how  much  the  more 
you  deserve  his  wrath?  Are  the  habits  of  sin  grown 
weaker  through  inveteracy  and  long  indulgence  ?  Does 
the  work  of  your  salvation  grow  easier  by  delays,  and  by 
your  having  fewer  days  for  work  ?  Does  conscience  gain 
strength  upon  you,  by  your  repeated  violences,  or  the 
Spirit  of  God  work  the  more  powerfully,  the  more  you  re- 
sist and  grieve  him'?  Does  your  being  inured  to  the  gospel 
give  it  greater  force  upon  you  ?  If  the  happy  change  of 
your  present  condition  be  probable,  the  probability  must 
depend,  in  human  view,  upon  such  absurdities  as  these. 
But  can  these  be  the  foundation  of  probability  ?  No ;  but 
of  the  greatest  improbability.  The  truth  of  the  case  is, 
your  condition  is  growing  more  and  more  discouraging 
every  da}^ ;  and  you  are  approaching  fast  towards  a  fixed 
unchangeable  state  of  incorrigible  obstinacy  in  wickedness. 
Ten  years  ago  it  was  much  more  likely,  in"  human  view, 
that  you  would  have  been  converted  ere  now,  than  it  now 
is  that  you  will  be  converted  in  ten  years  to  come.  I  may 
say  of  your  salvation  what  Christ  said  of  the  salvation 


228  THE   DOOM   OF 'THE   INCORRIGIBLE   SINNER. 

of  the  rich,  with  men  that  is  impossible.  But  ivith  God  things 
are  possible;  he  can  and  sometimes  does  act  contrary  to  ap- 
pearances and  the  natural  tendency  of  things,  and  aston- 
ishes his  creatures  with  unexpected  and  surprising  wonders. 
Thus,  veteran,  obstinate  sinners!  he  may  yet  deal  with 
some  of  you.  Omnipotence  may  yet  take  you  in  hand, 
disarm  all  your  resistance,  and  cause  you  to  feel  those  ad- 
monitions you  have  made  light  of.  This,  perhaps,  God  may 
do.  But  O  !  it  is  an  anxious,  dreadful  peradventure ;  for 
you  must  know,  though  he  sometimes  singles  out  a  hard- 
ened sinner  of  your  class  here  and  there,  to  make  him 
the  illustrious  trophy  of  the  power  of  his  grace,  yet  this  is 
not  his  usual  way :  he  does  not  commonly  work  upon  such 
rough,  unsuitable  materials.  He  generally  pitches  upon 
the  young  and  pliable,  upon  those  that  have  not  been  long 
inured  to  the  gospel,  nor  hardened  in  sin.  Therefore 
even  this,  which  is  your  only  ground  of  hope,  can  afford 
you  but  a  trembling  anxious  hope.  Notwithstanding  this, 
you  have  reason  to  fear  that  you  will  die  as  you  have 
hitherto  lived,  hardy,  resolute,  incorrigible  sinners.  And 
if  so,  you  know  your  dreadful  end ;  you  shall  suddenly 
be  destroyed ;  your  stiff  neck  shall  be  unexpectedly  bro- 
ken, and  there  shall  be  no  help,  no  remedy. 

And  if  you  are  indeed  in  so  much  danger,  will  you  not 
now  lay  it  to  heart,  and  endeavor  to  escape  while  you  may  ? 
Alas !  shall  this  admonition  also,  this  admonition  for  your 
disregarding  all  past  admonitions,  be  lost,  upon  you  like 
the  rest  ?  O  1  will  you  not  at  length  take  warning  before 
it  is  too  late  ?  Perhaps  the  voice  that  now  warns  you,  may 
not  long  sound  in  your  ears.  But  O  !  let  me  find  this  day, 
that  those  whom  I  have  reproved  in  vain  for  so  many  years, 
regard  me  at  last,  and  submit  and  yield.  Then,  and  not 
till  then,  you  will  be  safe  from  the  vengeance  denounced 
in  this  alarming  proverb,  He  that  being  often  reproved,  hard- 
eneth  his  nccJc,  shall  suddenly  be  destroyed,  and  that  iviiliout 
remedy. 


LOOKING   TO   CHRIST,    ETC.  229 


XXII. 

THE  MTURE  OF  LOOKING  TO  CHRIST  OPENED  AND 
EXPLAINED. 

"  Look  unto  me,  and  be  ye  saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  ;  for  I  am  God, 
and  there  is  none  else." — Isaiah,  xlv.  22. 

It  is  tlie  peculiar  sin  and  unhappiness  of  tlie  Christian- 
ized world,  that,  while  they  profess  and  speculatively 
believe  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah,  the  Saviour  of  sinners, 
and  while  they  harbor  some  kind  of  esteem  for  him  as  a 
benefactor  that  appeared  upon  earth  more  than  1700  years 
ago,  who  should  be  still  remembered  with  gratitude,  yet  that 
they  are  not  deeply  sensible  of  that  intimate,  personal  con- 
cern which  degenerate  sinners  have  with  him  in  every  age. 

They  do  not  make  that  eager,  importunate,  affectionate 
application  to  him,  which  his  character  requires  as  the 
Saviour  of  guilty  men.  Divine  justice  indeed  was  satis- 
lied,  the  demands  of  the  law  were  answered  by  the  obe- 
dience and  sufferings  of  our  divine  Kedeemer  long  before 
we  came  into  existence,  and  Grod  became  reconcilable  to 
a  guilty  world.  But  all  this  alone  does  not  insure  our  sal- 
vation. Kedemption  must  not  only  be  purchased,  but 
applied ;  and  though  it  was  purchased  without  oiir  con- 
currence, yet  all  mankind,  in  all  ages,  are  concerned  in  the 
application  of  it.  There  was  no  need  of  the  gospel  and 
its  ordinances  to  procure  it ;  but  all  these  are  necessary, 
and  therefore  appointed  for  our  obtaining  an  actual  interest 
in  it.  Hence  Christ,  as  an  Almighty  Saviour,  is  exhibited, 
and  the  blessings  of  his  purchase  are  offered  in  the  gospel ; 
and  all  that  hear  the  gracious  proposal  are  invited  to  enter- 
tain this  Saviour  with  suitable  dispositions,  and  to  consent 
to  the  terms  on  which  these  blessings  are  offered,  upon  the 
penalty  of  everlasting  damnation.  Our  personal  consent 
is  required  as  much  in  this  age  as  when  the  gospel  was  first 
published  to  the  world ;  and  it  is  this  which  is  solicited  by 
all  the  means  of  grace ;  it  is  to  gain  your  consent  to  this 
gracious  proposal,  that  the  gospel  is  still  continued  among 


230  LOOKING  TO    CHRIST 

you.     It  is  for  this  wo  preach ;  for  this  you  should  hear, 
and  perform  every  other  duty ;  for  this  the  Lord's  Supper 
in  particular  was  instituted,  and  has  been,  to-day,  adminis- 
tered among  you.     It  is  to  melt  your  hearts,  and  engage 
your  aifections  to  a  dying  Saviour  that  he  is  represented 
both  in  words  and  in  speaking  actions,  in  all  the  agonies 
of  Gethsemane,  and  in  all  the  tortures  of  Calvary.     But 
though  these  affecting  means  have  been  used  from  age  to 
age,  yet,  alas !  they  have  not  had  the  intended  effect  upon 
multitudes.     There    is  as   much   reason   to  exhort   unre- 
generate  sinners  now  to  repent  and  be  converted,  as  there 
was  to  exhort  the  impenitent  Jews  to  it.     There  is  as  much 
cause  to  direct  and   persuade  men  now  to  believe  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  heathen  jailer,  who  had  been  an 
infidel.     We  must  have  those  affectionate  dispositions  and 
vigorous   exercises  of  heart  towards  him,  which   become 
guilty,  perishing  sinners  towards  an  Almighty  and  gracious 
Saviour,  who  deserves  and  therefore  demands  our  supreme 
affection,  our  humble  dependence  on  his  merits  alone,  and 
our  hearty  consent  to  be  his  servants  for  ever.     We  must 
be  brought  to  believe  in  him  with  such  a  faith  as  will  reg- 
ulate our  practices,  and  render   the  whole  of  our  life  a 
series  of  grateful  obedience  to  him,  who  is   an   atoning 
Priest  upon  a  throne  of  royal  authority,  enacting  laws  and 
demanding  the  dutiful   submission  of  his  subjects.     This 
faith  is  one  of  the  principal  subjects  of  sacred  Scripture, 
and ,  is   expressed  in  various  forms :  sometimes   in   plain 
terms,  but  more   frequently  in  metaphors  borrowed  from 
earthly  things,   and  particularly  from  the  actions   of  the 
body.     We  speak  of  the  eye  of  the  understanding  as  well 
as  our  bodily  eye.     The  evidence  by  which  the  soul  forms 
its  determinations  is  called  light,  as  well  as  the  medium  of 
proper  vision.     And   as  the   metaphor  is  here  borrowed 
from  the   eye,   so   it    is   frequently   borrowed   from    the 
other    organs     of    the    body    and    their    actions.       And 
there  is  not  only  necessity  but  reason  for  this,  as  there  is 
a  resemblance  between   those  actions  of  the   body   from 
which  those  metaphors  are  borowed  and  those  actions  of 
the  mind  to  which  they  are  transferred ;  yea,  it  is  not  only 
a  reasonable,  but  a  beautiful  method  of  representing  divine 
things.     In  such  metaphorical  terms,  as  I  observed,  faith 
is  often  represented  in  sacred  Scripture.     Sometimes  the 
metaphor  is  borrowed  from  the  feet ;  and  then  to  believe 


OPENED   AND   EXPLAINED.  231 

is  to  come  to  Christ ;  to  come  to  liim  as  one  oppressed 
with  a  heavy  burden  to  a  person  that  can  relieve ;  to  come 
to  him  as  one  perishing  with  thirst  to  a  fountain  of  living 
water;  or  as  the  manslajer,  closely  pursued  by  the  avenger 
of  blood,  to  the  city  of  refuge :  hence  it  is  expressed  by 
the  most  emphatical  phrase  of  fleeing  for  refuge.  Some- 
times the  metaphor  is  taken  from  the  ears ;  and  faith  is 
expressed  by  hearing  his  voice,  as  the  impoverished,  dying 
wretch  would  hear  the  offer  of  plenty  and  life.^  And  some- 
times, as  in  the  text,  the  metaphor  is  taken  from  the  eyes ; 
and  faith  is  represented  as  looking  to  Christ.  My  |)^esent 
design  is : 

I.  To  explain  the  duty  here  expressed  by  the  metaphor 
of  looking. 

II.  To  urge  it  upon  you  by  sundry  considerations. 

I.  To  explain  the  duty  expressed  by  the  metaphor  of 
looking,  we  are  to  observe  in  general  that  a  man's  looks 
often  discover  his  condition  and  the  frame  of  his  mind.  By 
virtue  of  the  strange  union  between  the  soul  and  the  body, 
the  dispositions  of  the  one  are  often  indicated  by  the  emo- 
tions and  appearances  of  the  other.  The  eye,  in  particular, 
is  a  mirror  in  which  we  may  see  the  various  passions  of 
the  mind  ;  and  it  has  a  kind  of  silent,  and  yet  significant- 
language,  which  conveys  to  others  those  inward  exercises 
which  the  tongue  does  not,  and  perhaps  cannot  express. 
Hence  we  can  understand  a  look  of  surprise  and  conster- 
nation, a  look  of  sorrow  and  compassion,  a  look  of  joy,  the 
look  of  a  perishing  suppliant,  or  a  needy,  expecting  de- 
pendent. Looking  to  Christ,  implies  those  suitable  dis- 
positions and  exercises  of  heart  towards  him,  which  are 
expressed  by  the  earnest  and  significant  looks  of  personsin 
a  distressed  condition  towards  their  deliverer.  And  in 
such  a  case  it  is  natural  to  conceive  a  person  as  expressing 
by  his  looks  a  particular  notice  and  distinct  knowledge  of 
his  deliverer,  an  importunate  cry  for  his  assistance — a 
wishful  expectation  of  it — a  dependence  upon  him  for  it — 
a  universal  submission  to  him — a  hearty  love  and  appro- 
bation of  him — and  joy  and  gratitude  for  his  deliverance. 
And  these  dispositions  and  exercises  of  mind  towards 
Christ  are  intended  in  the  text  by  looking  to  him. 

1.  Looking  to  Christ,  implies  a  particular  notice  and  dis- 
tinct knoAvledge  of  him.  When  we  fix  an  earnest  look 
upon  an  object,  we  take  particular  notice  and  a  distinct 


232  LOOKING  TO   CHRIST 

survey  of  it,  and  so  obtain  a  clear  knowledge  of  it.  Thus 
we  are  called  to  fix  our  intellectual  eyes  upon  Christ,  to 
make  hirn  the  object  of  our  contemplation,  and  by  these 
means  to  obtain  the  knowledge  of  him.  Mankind  are  too 
commonly  regardless  and  ignorant  of  him.  And  are  not 
many  of  you  chargeable  with  this  criminal  neglect  ?  The 
blessed  Jesas  has  exhibited  himself  to  your  observation  in 
the  gospel,  but  your  attention  is  so  engaged  by  other  ob- 
jects, that  you  will  not  allow  him  an  earnest  look.  He  has 
been  set  forth  evidently  crucified  before  your  eyes,  but  you 
have,  as  it  were,  passed  and  repassed  careless  and  uncon- 
cerned by  his  cross.  It  is  by  the  knowledge  of  him  you 
are  justified ;  and  if  you  are  a  people  of  no  wider  standing, 
he  that  formed  you  ivill  not  have  mercy  on  you;  but  you  shall 
be  destroyed  through  lack  of  knowledge.  Not  that  a  mere 
speculative  knowledge  of  Christ  will  suffice ;  no,  it  must 
not  be  a  look  of  curiosity  and  speculation,  but  you  must 
be  affected  with  the  object;  your  eye  must  affect  your 
heart ;  and  by  beholding  the  glory  of  the  Lord  in  the  glass 
of  the  gospel,  you  must  be  changed  into  the  same  image, 
or  conformed  to  him  in  holiness.  But  this  will  be  further 
illustrated  under  the  following  particulars. 

2.  Looking  to  Christ  implies  an  importunate  eagerness 
for  relief  from  him.  When  a  guilty  creature,  that  had 
been  involved  in  the  general  presumptuous  security,  is 
effectually  alarmed  with  just  apprehensions  of  his  danger; 
when  he  sees  his  numberless  transgressions  in  all  their 
horrid  aggravations,  and  the  dreadful  threatenings  of  the 
law  in  full  force,  and  ready  to  be  executed  against  him : 
in  short,  when  "he  sees  himself  ripe  for  ruin,  and  ready 
every  moment  to  sink  into  it,  with  what  importunate  cries 
will  be  betake  himself  to  him  for  relief!  Behold,  he  pray- 
eth  !  now  he  is  often  on  his  knees  before  God  in  secret,  as 
well  as  in  social  prayer ;  and  in  the  intervals  between  his 
prayers,  he  is  often  looking  to  the  hills  from  whence  cometh 
ins  aid,  and  wafting  up  many  an  importunate  cry  to 
heaven. 

8.  Looking  unto  Jesus  implies  an  humble  dependence 
upon  him  for  salvation.  This  supposes  that  we  are  deeply 
sensible  of  our  own  utter  inability  to  relieve  ourselves  ; 
and  when  we  are  convinced  of  this,  we  shall  immediately 
look  to  another,  when  we  see  no  ground  for  self-confi- 
dence, we  shall  place  our  trust  in  Jesus  alone.     It  was 


OPENED   AND   EXPLAINED.  233 

such  a  look  as  tliis  that  good  Jehoshaphat  raised  to 
heaven:  We  have  no  might  against  this  great  company, 
neither  know  ive  what  to  do  ;  hut  our  eyes  are  njpon  thee.  So 
Micah,  finding  no  room  for  human  confidence,  resolves. 
Therefore  I  will  look  unto  the  Lord.  Thus  an  humble  sinner, 
sensible  of  his  ntter  inability,  resolves  to  venture  upon 
Christ,  to  trust  in  him,  though  he  should  slay  him.  And  in 
those  happy  moments  when  the  sinner  has  some  glimmer- 
ing hopes  of  acceptance,  with  what  pleasure  and  satisfaction 
does  he  rest  upon  this  eternal  rock !  and  how  happy  we, 
should  we  be  engaged  this  day  to  place  our  humble  de- 
pendence there !     It  is  to  this  the  text  calls  us. 

4.  Looking  to  Christ  implies  a  hearty  approbation  of 
him  as  a  Saviour,  and  supreme  affection  to  him.  Love  is 
often  expressed  by  looks ;  and  when  we  look  affectionately 
npon  an  object,  it  evidences  that  we  are  pleased  with  the 
survey.  So  a  perishing  world  is  commanded  to  acquiesce 
in  the  method  of  salvation  tlirough  Christ,  to  love  him 
above  all,  and  to  take  the  fullest  and  noblest  complaisance 
in  him  ;  and  upon  their  so  doing,  they  are  assured  of  salva- 
tion. We  have,  indeed,  been  influenced  by  education  and 
the  like  means  to  entertain  a  general  good  esteem  of  Christ ; 
but,  alas !  this  is  very  far  short  of  that  endearing  affection 
and  hearty  complacence  which  he  claims  and  deserves. 
Our  hearts  must  be  engaged  to  him;  he  must  be  the  chief 
among  ten  thousand  in  our  eyes.  Our  thoughts  and  pas- 
sions must  often  ascend  to  him,  and  we  must  rest  in  him 
with  complacence,  as  containing  all  our  salvation  and  al  I 
our  desire.  The  duty  of  looking  to  Christ  being  explained, 
I  shall, 

11.  Urge  you  to  look  to  him  by  several  weighty  consider- 
ations. This  is  the  great  duty  of  saints  and  sinners,  and 
consequently  of  every  one  in  all  ages  and  places,  even  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth.  It  is  the  duty  of  sinners  to  turn  away 
their  eyes  from  beholding  vanity,  and  fix  them  upon  this 
attractive,  but,  alas!  neglected  Saviour;  to  turn,  their 
attention  from  the  trifles  of  time  to  the  great  anti-type  of 
the  brazen  serpent,  who  is  lifted  up  that  a  dying  world 
may  open  their  eyes  just  closing  in  death,  and  look  and 
live. ,  And  saints,  whose  eyes  have  been  turned  to  this 
glorious  object,  ought  to  fix  them  more  intensely  upon 
him,  to  take  larger  surveys  of  his  glory,  and  to  renew  their 
affectionate  trust  in  him.     I  would  premise,  that  when  I 

20* 


234  ARGUMENTS   TO   ENFORCE 

exhort  sinners  to  look  to  Jesus,  I  would  not  intimate  that 
they  are  able  to  do  this  of  themselves.  No ;  I  am  sensible, 
that  all  the  exhortations,  persuasions,  invitations,  and 
expostulations  that  a  feeble  mortal,  or  even  the  most  pow- 
erful angel  in  heaven  can  use  with  them,  will  have  no 
effect,  but  vanish  into  air,  without  the  efficacious  operation 
of  Almighty  grace.  And  yet  such  exhortations  are  neither 
useless,  improper,  or  unscriptural :  they  tend  to  convince 
sinners  of  their  inability  to  believe,  which  is  necessary  to 
their  believing  aright ;  and  it  is  while  such  arguments  are 
addressed  to  their  understandings,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is 
wont  to  work  upon  their  hearts.  Hence  they  are  so  often 
commanded  in  Scripture  to  repent,  to  believe  in  Christ,  to  look 
to  him  to  make  them  a  new  heart,  &c. 

The  arguments  to  enforce  this  evangelical  duty  can  never 
be  exhausted,  and  therefore  I  must  confine  myself  to 
those  which  this  copious  text  furnishes  us  with,  which, 
when  resolved  into  particulars,  will  stand  thus  : 

It  is  salvation  we  are  called  upon  to  pursue ;  it  may  be 
obtained  upon  the  easiest  terms,  without  any  personal 
merit,  viz.,  by  a  look  ;  it  is  Immanuel,  the  incarnate  God, 
that  commands  and  invites  us  to  look — and  our  looking 
shall  not  be  in  vain,  for  he  is  God,  who  engages  to  save 
those  that  look  to  him ;  and  it  is  in  vain  to  look  elsewhere 
for  salvation,  and  needless  to  fear  his  grace  should  be  con- 
trolled by  another ;  for  as  he  is  God,  so  there  is  none  else — 
and  we  in  particular  are  invited,  being  especially  meant  by 
the  ends  of  the  earth. 

1.  It  is  salvation  that  is  here  offered.  Look,  and  be 
saved.  Salvation  !  O  most  propitious,  transporting  sound ! 
Amazing !  that  ever  it  should  be  heard  by  our  guilty  ears ! 
Sin,  my  brethren,  has  exposed  us  to  the  curse  of  the  divine 
law,  to  the  loss  of  heaven,  and  all  its  joys,  yea,  and  of 
earth  too,  and  all  its  entertainments ;  for  death,  the  conse- 
quences of  sin,  will  rend  us  from  them.  We  have  no  title 
to  an}^  good  to  satisfy  our  eager  pantings ;  and  must  lan- 
guish and  pine  through  an  endless  duration  without  a  drop 
of  bliss,  if  punished  according  to  our  demerit.  We  are 
also  subject  to  the  torturing  agonies  of  a  remorseful  con- 
science, to  be  cut  olf  from  the  earth  by  the  sword  of  jus- 
tice, and  swept  away  by  the  bosom  of  destruction  into  the 
regions  of  horror  and  despair,  there  to  consume  away  a 
long,  long  eternity  in  inextinguishable  flames,  in  remedi- 


LOOKING   TO   CHRIST.  235 

less,  intolerable  torments,  in  tlie  horrid  society  of  devils 
and  damned  ghosts,  who  shall  mutually  promote  and  join 
in  the  general  roar  of  torture  and  desperation.  This,  sirs, 
is  our  just,  our  unavoidable  doom,  unless  we  obtain  an 
interest  in  the  salvation  of  the  Lord.  But  salvation  brings 
us  a  complete  remedy,  equal  to  our  misery.  It  contains  a 
title  to  the  divine  favor,  and  consequently  to  all  the  joys 
of  heaven ;  it  contains  a  perfect  deliverance  from  all  the 
torments  of  hell :  and  shall  we  not  then  regard  and  obey 
the  voice  that  cries.  Look  unto  me,  and  he  ye  saved!  Is  it 
not  fit  those  should  perish  without  remedj^,  who  hear  the 
offer  of  such  a  salvation  with  indifference  ?  Hoiv  shall  ive 
escape,  if  lue  neglect  so  great  scdvation  ?  Were  we  now  under 
a  sentence  of  condemnation  to  death  by  an  earthly  court, 
and  were  going  out  one  after  another  to  the  place  of  exe- 
cution, and  should  some  welcome  messenger  with  a  gen- 
eral pardon  in  his  hand,  come  with  joyful  speed  into  this 
assembly,  and  proclaim,  salvation !  salvation !  to  all  that 
would  accept  it  on  the  easiest  terms,  what  a  shout  of  gen- 
eral joy  would  burst  from  this  assembly !  What  changed 
faces,  what  tears  of  general  joy  would  appear  among  us ! 
In  this  agreeable  character,  my  brethren,  I  have  the  honor 
and  the  happiness  of  appearing  among  you  this  day.  I 
proclaim  salvation  from  the  Lord  to  dying  men ;  salvation 
to  all  that  will  look  to  him  for  it.  And  I  would  not  make 
the  gffer  to  the  air,  or  to  the  walls  of  this  house,  but  to 
rational  creatures,  capable  of  consenting  and  refusing.  I 
therefore  request  you  to  look  upon  it  as  a  proposal  made 
to  you  ;  to  you  men,  to  you  women,  to  you  youth  and  chil- 
dren, to  you  negroes,  demanding  a  speedy  answer.  Will 
you  look  to  Jesus  ?  or  will  you  hide  your  faces  from  him  ? 
Will  you  not  think  him  and  his  salvation  worth  a  look ! 
Which  leads  me  to  observe, 

2.  This  salvation  may  be  obtained  upon  low  terms.  It 
may  be  obtained  by  a  look.  Look  and  be  saved ;  and  this 
metaphor  implies  that  no  merit  is  required  in  us  to  procure 
this  salvation.  It  is,  as  cheap  a  cure  as  that  which  the 
Israelites  obtained  by  looking  to  the  brazen  serpent.  The 
salvation  is  wrought  already  ;  Christ  would  not  separate 
his  soul  and  body,  and  put  an  end  to  his  pains,  till  he  could 
say,  It  is  finished,  and  all  required  of  us  is  a  cheerful 
accej^tance  ;  and  what  terms  could  be  easier  ?  It  is  true 
we  are  required  to  abstain  from  sin,  and  be  holy,  in  order 


236  ARGUMENTS   TO   ENFORCE 

to  enjoy  this  salvation ;  but  can  tliis  be  looked  upon  as  a 
hard  term?  It  is  impossible  in  the  nature  of  things  you 
should  be  saved  in  a  course  of  sin ;  for  one  great  part  of 
the  salvation  consists  in  deliverance  from  sin.  This  is  the 
deadly  disease  which  must  be  healed,  in  order  to  your  hap- 
piness. And  how  then  can  you  expect  to  be  saved  while 
you  indulge  it?  What  do  those  deserve  who  do  not  think 
of  a  salvation  purchased  with  the  blood  of  God  worth  a 
look  ?  AVhat  drudgery  do  you  endure,  what  hardships  do 
you  voluntarily  undergo,  to  procure  some  of  the  specious 
toys  of  this  world  ?  How  eagerly  will  you  accept  the  offer 
of  any  temporal  advantage  !  and  will  you  neglect  this  invi- 
tation to  look  and  live  ?     Especially,  when, 

3.  It  is  Immanuel,  our  incarnate  God,  that  invites  and 
commands  you  to  look  to  him  and  be  saved.  That  it  is 
Christ  who  here  calls  us  to  look  to  him,  is  evident  from  the 
application  of  this  context  to  Christ  by  the  apostle,  Eom. 
xiv.  9-11.  See  also  Phil.  ii.  9-11.  He  spake  us  into  being, 
and  we  obeyed;  and  shall  we,  when  blessed  with  exist- 
ence, resist  his  almighty  call  ?  It  is  his  voice  whom  angels 
obey ;  nay,  universal  nature  hears  his  awful  mandate,  and 
all  her  laws  are  observed,  or  cancelled  according  to  his 
pleasure.  And  is  this  the  majestic  voice  which .  sinners 
hear  sounding  in  the  gospel,  and  yet  disregarded  ?  Is  this 
he  whom  they  make  so  light  of,  as  not  to  vouchsafe  him  a 
look?  Amazing  presumption!  And  further,  it  is,  his 
voice  which  shall  pronounce  the  final  sentence  upon  the 
assembled  universe.  He  now  sits  exalted  upon  a  throne  of 
grace,  scattering  blessings  among  his  subjects,  and  inviting 
a  dying  world  to  look  to  him  and  live ;  but  ere  long  he 
will  put  on  majesty  and  terror,  and  ascend  the  throne  of 
judgment.  From  thence  he  will  pronounce.  Come  ye  blessed, 
on  all  that  hear  his  call  now ;  and  neither  earth  nor  hell 
.can  repeal  the  joyful  sentence.  And  on  those  that  will 
not  now  look  to  him,  he  will  pronounce,  Dejmrt  from  me; 
"  away,  away  from  my  blissful  presence,  ye  cursed  crea- 
tures, never,  never  to  see  me  more."  And  though  they 
can  now  resist  the  voice  of  mercy,  yet  then  they  must 
obey  the  dreadful  orders  of  Justice,  and  sink  confounded 
from  his  face,  and  sink  to  hell.  We,  my  brethren,  must 
mingle  in  that  vast  assembly,  and  hear  our  doom  from  his 
lips ;  and  can  we,  in  the  serious  expectation  of  that  day, 
refuse  his  call  to  look  to  him  now  ?     Behold,  he  cometh 


LOOKING  TO   CHRIST.  •  237 

with  clouds,  and  every  eye  shall  see  him ;  and  how  shall 
we  stand  the  terror  of  his  face,  if  we  now  treat  him  so 
contemptuously  ?  These  considerations  show  that  the  call 
in  my  text  is  the  command  of  authority,  and  therefore 
that  our  neglect  of  it  is  disloyalty  and  rebellion.  But  O ! 
there  is  a  more  melting,  a  more  endearing  consideration 
still.  It  is  the  voice  of  our  Beloved,  it  is  the  gracious 
invitation  of  love ;  it  is  his  voice  who  heard  the  cry  of 
helpless  misery;  who,  though  equal  with  Grod,  and  pos- 
sessed of  infinite,  independent  happiness,  emptied  himself, 
and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant.  For  us  he  was 
reproached,  belied,  persecuted ;  and  O !  for  us  he  sweat  and 
groaned  in  Gethsemane ;  for  us  he  was  nailed  to  the  cross ; 
for  us  he  hung  in  ignominy  and  torture ;  for  us  he  shed 
his  blood,  he  breathed  out  his  life ;  and  for  us  the  Lord  of 
life  lay  in  the  dust  of  death.  And  0 1  blessed  Jesus !  after 
all  this  love,  after  all  these  sufferings,  will  not  the  sons  of 
men  afford  thee  one  affectionate,  beheving  look  ?  O  sirs, 
can  you  reject  the  invitations  of  such  a  Saviour  ?  are  you 
capable  of  such  horrid  ingratitude?  He  bespeaks  your 
attention  with  dying  groans ;  his  wounds  preach  from  the 
cross  and  cry,  Look  imto  me,  and  he  ye  saved  all  the  ends  of 
the  earth. 

4.  It  is  Immanuel  we  are  to  look  to.  Look  unto  me. 
He  that  issues  the  command  is  the  glorious  and  attractive 
object  we  are  called  to  behold.  He  has  exhibited  himself 
to  your  view  this  day  in  a  vesture  dipt  in  blood.  He  has 
emblematically  past  before  you  crowned  with  thorns,  and 
covered  with  blood;  and  as  Pilate  said  to  the  Jews, 
to  melt  them  in  compassion,  so  say  we  to  you, 
Behold  the  man !  And  will  you  turn  away  from  him 
regardless,  or  view  him  with  as  much  indifference  as 
though  he  were  a  malefactor?  What  is  this  but  to  join 
the  Jewish  rabble,  Away  with  Mm  !  crucify  him  I  crucify  ! 
He  has  virtually  said  to  you  as  to  Thomas,  Ljook  into  ray 
hands,  and  behold  the  print  of  the  nails;  and  look  into  my 
side,  and  behold  the  stab  of  the  spear,  ivhich  opened  a  fountain 
of  If e  for  you.  Shall  he  complain,  with  David,  his  type,  / 
looked  on  my  right  hand,  and  beheld,  but  there  loas  no  man 
that  u'oidd  know  7ne;  no  man  cao^ed  for  my  soul.  Blessed 
Jesus  !  shalt  thou  take  up  this  complaint  over  creatures  for 
whom  thou  didst  bleed  and  die  ?  Over  creatures  who  owe 
all  their  hopes  to  thee  ?  may  not  the  whole  creation  be  struck 


238  ARGUMENTS   TO   ENFORCE 

with  consternation  at  the  complaint !  why  are  not  the 
miraculous  solemnities  that  attend  thy  death  renewed  ?  why 
does  not  the  earth  tremble,  the  rocks  rend,  the  sun  put  on 
the  livery  of  a  mourner,  to  see  a  dying  God  and  a  careless 
world !  the  Creator,  the  Saviour  of  men,  in  agony,  in  blood ! 
and  his  creatures,  his  ransomed,  asleep,  and  not  affording 
him  so  much  as  a  look  of  love  and  compassion  ?  But  the 
cross  is  not  the  only  place  where  we  should  look  upon  him. 
Lift  up  your  eyes  to  seats  above,  there  you  may  behold 
him  who  tasted  of  death,  crowned  with  glory  and  honor. 
His  head,  that  was  once  crowned  with  thorns,  is  now 
adorned  with  a  crown  of  glory  :  His  hands  that  were  once 
nailed  to  the  cross,  now  sway  the  sceptre  of  the  universe : 
and  his  feet,  that  were  cruelly  pierced,  now  walk  the  crys- 
tal pavement  of  heaven.  He  that  was  insulted  by  Jews 
and  Gentiles,  he  at  whom  they  wagged  their  heads,  is  now 
adored  by  all  the  heavenly  hosts,  who  congratulate  his 
exaltation,  and  cry  with  united  voice.  Worthy  is  the  Lamb 
that  was  slain  to  receive  power  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and 
strength,  and  honor,  and  glory  and  blessing. 

Shall  we  not  look  to  him  whose  glory  attracts  the  eyes 
of  all  the  celestial  armies,  and  congratulate  his  exaltation  ? 
We  have  cause  indeed  to  rejoice  in  it ;  for  0 !  he  is  exalted, 
that  he  may  have  mercy  upon  us :  he  has  ascended  the 
throne,  that  he  may  thence  scatter  blessings  on  a  guilty 
world  beneath  him.  And  can  we  slight  such  glory  and 
love  united? 

5.  Look  to  him ;  for  as  he  is  God,  so  there  is  none  else. 
This  implies  that  there  is  no  other  Saviour,  and  that  this 
sole  Saviour  is  uncontrollable,  and  therefore  able  to  save. 

It  is  only  a  God  that  is  able  to  work  our  salvation.  Men, 
angels,  all  creatures  are  unequal  to  the  task.  They  cannot 
satisfy  divine  justice  for  our  sins ;  they  cannot  subdue  our 
corruptions,  and  sanctify  our  hearts  ;  nor  conduct  us  safe 
tlirough  all  the  dangers  and  temptations  that  surround  us. 
We  in  particular  are  utterly  incapable  of  these  things.  And 
if  you  will  not  look  to  Christ,  to  whom  will  you  look? 
Call  now,  if  there  be  any  that  luill  ansiver  thee  ;  to  ivliich  of 
the  saints,  to  which  of  the  angels,  wilt  thou  turn  f  'Y'ou  are 
shut  up  to  the  faith,  my  brethren  ;  you  have  no  alternative 
but  to  look  to  Christ,  or  sink  to  hell.  There  is  no  salva- 
tion in  any  other.  And  will  you  rather  be  without  a 
Saviour  than  look  to  him  as  such  ?     Why  such  strange 


LOOKING   TO   CHRIST.  230 

aversion  to  your  best  friend,  who  is  able  to  save  to  the 
utmost  ? 

He  is  able  to  save,  because  beyond  control.  There  is 
no  God  besides,  to  reverse  his  will ;  but  whom  he  blesses, 
is  blessed  indeed.  He  is  head  over  all  things  to  his  chuoxh. 
He  limits  the  power,  controls  the  rage,  and  baffles  all  the 
politic  schemes  of  the  powers  of  hell ;  and  the  hearts  of 
men,  of  kings,  are  in  his  hand ;  and  he  turns  them  whith- 
ersoever he  pleases.  None  therefore  shall  pluck  his  sheep 
out  of  his  hand ;  but  he  will  give  unto  them  eternal 
life. 

6.  And  lastly,  look  to  him,  for  you  are  particularly 
invited,  being  especially  meant  by  those  in  the  ends  of  the 
earth.  We  dwell  in  a  continent  that  may  be  called  the 
ends  of  the  earth  with  peculiar  propriety  ;  "  Look  unto  me, 
ye  that  dwell  in  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  inhabited  earth  ; 
look  unto  me,  ye  Americans.  O  what  a  joyful  sound ! 
ISTot  many  years  ago  we  or  our  near  ancestors  came  from 
the  old  continent  of  Europe  or  its  adjacent  islands ;  and 
the  Lord  has  driven  out  the  heathen  from  before  us,  and 
planted  us  in  their  stead.  In  the  days  of  Isaiah,  God  was 
mindful  of  America,  and  treasured  up  a  rich  invitation, 
till  it  should  be  inhabited,  and  in  need  of  it.  He  has 
turned  this  wilderness  into  a  fruitful  field ;  the  residence 
of  savages  and  wild  beasts  into  a  mart  of  nations.  He  hath 
blessed  us  also,  so  that  ive  are  onultiplied  greatly ;  and  he 
suffereth  7iot  our  cattle  to  decrease.  But,  alas !  we  have 
turned  his  blessings  into  an  occasion  of  sinning,  we  have 
improved  in  guilt  and  impiety  in  proportion  to  our  im- 
provement in  riches  and  the  arts  of  life.  And  it  is  an 
instance  of  divine  patience  that  may  astonish  even  heaven 
itself,  that  so  ungrateful  a  land  has  not  been  visited  with 
some  signal  judgment.  Do  ye  thus  requite  the  Lord,  0 
foolish  people  and  unwise !  is  not  he  thy  Father,  that  hath 
bought  thee?  hath  he  not  'made  thee  and  established  thee  f  But 
to  abuse  the  gospel  is  the  greatest  of  all  crimes.  It  is  this 
that  ripens  a  people  for  ruin,  aud  fills  up  the  measure  of 
their  iniquity  :  God  will  easier  bear  with  the  abuse  of  any 
mercy  than  with  the  contempt  of  his  Son.  Therefore  look 
unto  hi'in,  and  be  ye  saved,  0  ye  ends  of  the  earth. 


240  THE  WONDERFUL   COMPASSION  OF 


XXIII. 

THE  WONDERFUL  COMPASSION  OF  CHRIST  TO  THE  GREATEST 

SIMERS. 

•*  O  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem !  thou  that  killest  the  prophets,  and  stonest 
them  that  are  sent  unto  thee,  how  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy 
cliildren  together,  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  lier  wings, 
and  ye  would  not." — Matt,  xxiii.  37. 

There  is  not,  perhaps,  a  chapter  in  the  whole  Bible  so 
fall  of  such  repeated  denunciations  of  the  most  tremendous 
woes  as  this.  Certainly  there  is  none  like  it  among  all 
the  discourses  of  Christ  left  upon  record.  Here  the  gentle 
Jesus,  the  inoffensive  Lamb  of  Grod,  treats  the  unbelieving 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  with  the  most  pungent  severity. 
Woe,  woe,  woe,  breaks  from  his  lips  like  repeated  claps  of 
thunder.  He  repeatedly  calls  them  hypocrites,  fools,  and 
blind,  blind  guides,  whited  sepulchres,  children  of  hell, 
serpents,  a  generation  of  vipers  who  cannot  escape  the 
damnation  of  hell.  But  in  my  text  he  melts  into  tender- 
ness, even  in  this  vein  of  terror,  and  appears  the  same 
compassionate,  gentle  Saviour  we  are  wont  to  find  him. 
His  most  terrible  denunciations  were  friendly  warnings, 
calculated  to  reform,  and  not  to  destroy.  And  while  de- 
nouncing the  most  terrible  woes  against  Jerusalem,  in  an 
abrupt  flow  of  passion  he  breaks  out  into  the  most  moving 
lamentation  over  her :  0  Jerusalem.,  Jerusalemi !  thou  that 
killest  the  prophets,  and  stonest  them  that  are  sent  unto  thee, 
hoio  often  loould  I  have  gathered  thy  children  together,  as  a  hen 
gathereth  her  chickens,  &c.  This  is  one  of  those  tender  cases 
which  requires  a  familiar  and  moving,  rather  than  a  grand 
illustration  ;  and  that  which  Jesus  has  chosen  is  one  of  the 
most  tender,  familiar,  and  moving  that  could  be  devised. 
How  often  would  I  have  gathered  thee,  O  Jerusalem,  as  a 
hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings.  As  much 
as  to  say,  "As  the  parent-bird,  when  she  sees  some  bird 
of  prey  hovering  over  her  helpless  young,  gives  them  the 
signal,  which  nature  teaches  them  to  understand,  and 
spreads  her  wings  to  protect  them,  resolved   to   become 


CHRIST   TO   THE   GREATEST   SINXERS.  241 

a  prey  herself  rather  than  her  tender  brood;  or,  as  she 
shelters  them  from  the  rain  and  cold,  and  cherishes  them 
Tinder  her  friendly  feathers,  "So,"  says  the  compassionate 
Eedeemer,  "so,  O  Jerusalem !  I  see  thy  children,  like 
heedless  chickens,  in  the  most  imminent  danger ;  I  see  the 
judgments  of  God  hovering  over  them  ;  I  see  the  Eoman 
eagle  ready  to  seize  them  as  its  prey;  I  see  storms  of 
vengeance  ready  to  fall  upon  them ;  and  how  often  have 
I  invited  them  to  fly  to  me  for  shelter,  and  give  them  the 
signal  of  their  danger!  But,  O  lamentable  !  O  astonish- 
ing !  ye  would  not !  I  was  willing,  but  ye  would  not!" 

His  compassion  will  appear  the  more  surprising,  if  we 
consider  the  object  of  it.  Jerusalem !  Jerusalem !  thou 
that  killest  the  prophets,  and  stonest  them  that  are  sent  to 
thee,  though  upon  the  kind  design  of  reforming  and  saving 
thee,  and  who  will,  in  a  few  days,  crucify  that  Saviour  who 
now  laments  thy  doom,  how  often  would  he  have  gathered 
even  thy  ungrateful  children  and  received  them  under  his 
protection,  with  an  affection  and  tenderness  like  the  in- 
stinctive fondness  of  the  mother-hen  for  her  brood  I 

The  important  truths  which  my  text  suggests  are  such 
as  these: — That  sinners  while  from  under  the  protection  of 
Jesus  Christ  are  in  a  very  dangerous  situation — that  they 
may  obtain  safety  by  putting  themselves  under  his  protec- 
tion—that he  is  willing  to  receive  the  greatest  sinners  under 
his  protection — that  he  has  often  used  means  to  prevail  upon 
them  to  fly  to  him,  that  they  may  be  safe — that  notwith- 
standing all  this,  multitudes  are  unwilling  to  fly  to  him,  and 
put  themselves  under  his  protection — that  this  unwillingness 
of  theirs  is  the  real  cause  of  their  destruction — that  this 
unwillingness  is  an  instance  of  the  most  irrational  and  bru- 
tal stupidity — and,  that  it  is  very  affecting  and  lamentable. 

1.  The  text  implies,  that  sinners,  while  from  under  the 
protection  of  Jesus  Christ,  are  in  a  very  dangerous  situation. 
As  the  hen  does  not  give  the  signal  of  danger,  nor  spread 
her  wings  to  shelter  her  young,  except  when  she  sees  danger 
approaching,  so  the  Lord  Jesus  would  not  call  sinners  to 
fly  to  him  for  protection  were  they  not  in  real  danger. 
Sinners,  you  are  in  danger  from  the  curse  of  the  divine 
law,  which  is  in  full  force  against  you,  while  you  have  no 
interest  in  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  which  alone  can 
answer  its  demands :  you  are  in  danger  from  the  dread 
arrest  of  divine  justice,  which  guards  the  sacred  rights  of 


242  THE   WONDERFUL   COMPASSION   OF 

the  divine  government,  and  will  avenge  itself  upon  you 
for  all  the  insults  you  have  offered  it ;  you  are  in  danger 
from  the  various  judgments  of  God,  who  is  angry  with 
you  every  day,  and  whose  judgments  are  hovering  over 
you,  and  ready  to  seize  you  like  hungry  birds  of  prey  : 
you  are  in  danger  from  your  own  vile  corruptions,  which 
may  hurry  you  into  such  courses  as  may  be  inconvenient, 
or,  perhaps,  ruinous  to  you  in  this  world,  may  harden  you 
in  impenitence,  and  at  length  destroy  you  for  ever ;  you 
are  in  danger  from  the  arrest  of  death,  which  is  ready  every 
moment  to  stretch  out  his  mortal  hand,  and  seize  you ; 
you  are  in  danger  from  the  malice  and  power  of  devils, 
who  like  hungry  lions  are  ready  to  snatch  away  your  souls, 
as  their  helpless  prey.  In  short,  you  are  surrounded  with 
dangers  on  every  hand,  and  dangers  rise  still  more  thick 
and  dreadful  before  you.  You  are  not  sure  of  an  hour's 
enjoyment  of  one  comfort ;  nay,  you  are  not  sure  there  is 
so  much  as  one  moment  between  you  and  all  the  miseries 
of  the  damned.  This  minute  you  are  upon  earth,  thought- 
less, secure,  and  gay ;  but  the  next  may  be — I  tremble  to 
tell  you  where — in  the  lake  that  burneth  with  fire  and 
brimstone,  tormented  in  flames.  Yes,  sinners,  one  flying 
moment  may  strip  you  entirely  naked  of  all  the  enjoy- 
ments of  earth,  cut  you  off  from  all  hope  of  heaven,  and 
ingulf  you  in  remediless  despair.  Some  of  you,  whose 
very  case  this  is,  will  not,  probably,  believe  me,  nor  talve 
the  alarm.  But  here,  alas !  lies  your  principal  danger.  If 
you  would  take  warning  in  time,  you  might  escape ;  but 
you  will  not  believe  there  is  danger  until  it  becomes  in- 
evitable. Had  Lot's  sons-in-law  taken  warning  from  him, 
they  might  have  escaped;  but  they  saw  no  sensible  ap- 
pearance of  the  impending  judgment,  and,  therefore,  thev 
continued  blindly  secure,  regarded  the  good  old  man  as  a 
mocker,  and,  therefore,  perished  in  Sodom.  Had  Jerusalem 
been  apprehensive  of  its  danger  in  time,  it  might  have 
flourished  to  this  day ;  but  it  would  not  be  warned,  and, 
therefore,  became  a  ruinous  heap :  and  this  will  be  your 
doom,  sinners,  unless  you  be  apprehensive  of  it  before  it 
breaks  upon  you  like  a  whirlwind.  Indeed,  it  may  make 
one  sad  to  think  how  common  this  danger  is,  and  how  little 
it  is  apprehended,  to  see  crowds  thoughtless  and  merry  on 
the  brink  of  ruin,  secure  and  careless  while  hanging  over 
the  infernal  pit  by  the  frail  thread  of  life.     This  is  sad ; 


CHEIST  TO   THE   GREATEST   SINNERS.  243 

but,  alas !  it  is  a  common  case  in  the  world,  and  I  am 
afraid  it  is  too  common  among  you,  my  hearers.  And 
whither  shall  you  fly  for  safety  ?  Is  the  danger  inevita- 
ble ?  If  so,  where  is  the  friendly  arm  that  can  guard  you  ? 
Where  the  wing  that  can  shelter  you  from  those  judg- 
ments that  are  hovering  over  you,  like  ravenous  birds,  to 
make  a  prey  of  you  ?  Blessed  be  God,  I  can  show  you  a 
place  of  safety ;  for, 

2.  The  text  implies,  that  if  sinners  fly  to  Christ,  and 
put  themselves  under  his  protection,  they  shall  obtain 
safety. 

How  great  and  seemingly  inevitable  your  dangers,  yet 
if  you  place  yourselves  under  the  protection  of  Jesus 
Clirist,  you  are  safe  for  ever ;  safe  from  the  deluges  of 
divine  wrath,  that  are  ready  to  rush  down  upon  you  ;  safe 
from  the  sword  of  justice,  and  the  thunders  of  Sinai ;  safe 
from  the  intestine  insurrections  of  your  own  conscience, 
and  from  the  power  and  malice  of  infernal  spirits ;  safe 
from  the  oppression  of  sin,  and  you  shall  be  gloriously 
triumphant  over  death  itself,  the  king  of  terrors.  Brethren, 
if  we  are  covered  with  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  the 
sword  of  divine  justice  cannot  reach  us.  If  we  are  shelter- 
ed under  the  wings  of  his  guardian  care,  the  most  threat- 
ening dangers  of  time  or  eternity  cannot  affect  us  with  real 
injury.  How  happy  then,  how  safe  are  such  of  you  as 
have  put  yourselves  under  his  protection !  Now  every 
blessing  is  yours,  and  nothing  can  do  you  a  real  injury. 
You  shall  never  fall  a  prey  to  your  various  enemies,  but 
shall  at  length  obtain  an  illustrious  victory  over  them  all 
tlirough  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  But,  alas !  are  there  not 
some  of  you  that  are  exposed  to  all  the  dreadful  dangers 
of  a  sinner  without  Christ  ?  And  is  there  no  place  of  safety 
for  3^ou  ?  Yes,  under  those  wings  where  believers  have 
sheltered  themselves.  But  you  may  perhaps  inquire, 
"  What  encouragement  have  I  to  fly  to  him?  I,  who  am  so 
vile  a  sinner ;  I,  who  have  nothing  at  all  to  recommend 
me  !  can  I  hope  that  he  will  stretch  out  the  wings  of  his 
mercy,  and  receive  me  into  protection  ?"  Yes,  poor  trem- 
bling creature,  even  you  may  venture  ;  for  remember  what 
my  text  further  implies,  viz. : 

3.  That  the  compassionate  Jesus  is  willing  to  receive 
the  very  greatest  sinner  under  his  protection.  Can  you 
question  this,  after  this  moving  lamentation  of  liis  over 


244  THE   WONDERFUL   COMPASSION   OF 

Jerusalem?  Jerusalem,  that  killed  the  prophets,  and 
stoned  them  that  were  sent  unto  her,  though  upon  mes- 
sages of  grace;  Jerusalem,  upon  whom  should  come  all 
the  righteous  blood  of  the  prophets,  through  a  length  of 
nearly  4000  years,  from  the  blood  of  Abel  to  the  blood  of 
Zacharias ;  Jerusalem,  the  den  of  those  murderers,  who,  he 
well  knew,  would  in  a  few  days  imbrue  their  hands  in  his 
own  blood ;  Jerusalem,  that  had  abused  so  many  mercies, 
been  incorrigible  under  so  many  chastisements,  deaf  to  so 
many  invitations ;  yet  of  this  very  city  the  compassionate 
Saviour  says,  How  often  tvould  I  have  gathered  thy  children 
under  the  wings  of  my  protection  ;  thy  children,  obstinate 
and  ungrateful  as  they  are !  0  what  gracious  encourage- 
ment is  here  to  the  greatest  sinners  among  us  1  Jesus  is  the 
same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever,  the  same  compassion- 
ate, all-sufficient  Saviour.  He  did  not  lose  his  pity  for 
Jerusalem  after  he  had  suffered  death  by  her  bloody  hands ! 
but  after  his  resurrection  he  orders  his  apostles  to  make  one 
trial  more  with  her  obstinate  children  :  Go,  says  he,  and 
jjreach  rej^entance  and  remission  of  sins  to  all  nations,  hegin- 
ing  at  Jerusalem  ;  as  much  as  to  sa}^,  "  Though  Jerusalem 
be  the  ungrateful  city,  where  so  much  pains  have  been 
taken  in  vain,  and  where  I  have  just  been  crucified  with 
cruel  hands,  yet  do  not  give  them  up ;  try  once  more  to 
gather  them  under  my  wings ;  yea,  let  them  have  the  very 
first  offer  of  grace  under  this  new  dispensation  ;"  0  wllat 
melting,  overpowering  mercy!  A¥hat  overflowing  and 
free  grace  are  here !  This  exemplifies  his  own  declara- 
tions, that  he  came  not  to  call  the  riyhteous  hut  sinners  to 
repentance ;  and  sinners  of  the  vilest  character  are  welcome 
to  him.  Therefore  come  sinners,  fly  to  Jesus,  however 
deep  your  guilt.  Had  you  been  murderers  of  fathers,  or 
murderers  of  mothers;  nay,  had  you  come  hither  this  day 
with  hands  reeking  with  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God,  yet, 
if  you  repent  and  believe,  he  is  willing  to  receive  jow 
under  the  shadow  of  his  wings.  To  encourage  you  the 
more,  and  even  to  constrain  you,  consider  what  my  text 
implies  further,  viz. : 

4.  That  the  Lord  Jesus  has  often  used  means  to  pre- 
vail upon  you  to  fly  to  him  for  safety.  What  he  says  to 
Jerusalem  may  be  applied  to  you ;  hoio  often  luoidd  I  have 
gathered  thy  children  together!  How  often  has  he  given 
you  the  signal  of  danger,  that  you  might  fly  from  it!  how 


245  CHRIST   TO   THE   GREATEST   SINNERS. 

often  has  lie  spread  out  a  friendly  wing  to  shelter  you !  as 
often  as  the  law  has  denounced  its  curses  against  you ;  as 
often  as  the  gospel  has  invited  and  allured  you ;  as  often  as 
conscience  has  checked  and  warned  you,  or  prompted  you 
to  duty  ;  as  often  as  the  Holy  Spirit  has  moved  upon  your 
hearts,  and  excited  some  serious  thoughts  and  good  pnr- 
l^oses  and  inclinations  ;  as  often  as  Providence  has  allured 
you  with  its  profusion  of  blessings,  or  chastened  you  with 
its  afl&ictive  rod;  as  often  as  you  have  seen  a  good  ex- 
ample, or  heard  a  pious  word  dropt  in  conversation ;  in 
short,  as  often  as  any  means  of  any  kind  have  been  used 
with  you,  that  had  a  tendency  to  make  you  sensible  of 
your  danger,  or  your  need  of  Jesus  Christ,  so  often  has  he 
used  means  with  you  to  engage  you  to  fly  to  the  shelter 
of  his  wings  for  protection.  The  gracious  call  of  a  com- 
passionate Saviour  has  followed  you  ever  since  you  were 
capable  of  hearing  it  to  this  day.  But,  alas !  does  not  the 
next  remark  hold  true  as  to  some  of  you,  viz. : 

5.  That,  notwithstanding  all  this,  multitudes  are  unwill- 
ing to  fly  to  him  for  protection !  It  was  not  of  Jerusalem, 
alone  that  he  had  reason  to  say,  /  loould  have  gathered  you, 
hut  ye  would  not  I  I  was  willing,  but  ye  were  unwilhng. 
This  is  strange  indeed,  and  might  seem  incredible,  were 
it  not  a  most  notorious  fact.  That  the  Judge  should  be 
willing  to  pardoD,  but  the  criminal  unwilling  to  receive 
pardon  ;  that  the  offended  Sovereign  should  be  ready  to 
take  a  perishing  rebel  under  his  protection,  but  the  rebel 
should  stand  off,  and  rather  perish  than  fly  to  him — this  is 
a  most  astonishing  thing ;  and  it  is  the  hardest  thing  in  the 
world  to  convince  sinners  that  this  is  their  conduct  towards 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  They  are  generally  more  suspicious 
of  his  willingness  to  save  them,  than  of  their  own  to  come 
to  him.  Were  he  as  willing  to  save  them,  as  they  are  to 
be  saved  by  him,  they  think  there  would  be  no  danger  of 
their  salvation ;  but  the  case  is  directly  the  reverse ;  the 
unwillingness  lies  entirely  upon  their  side.  To  convince 
them  of  this  let  it  be  considered,  that  we  are  not  truly  will- 
ing to  be  saved  by  Christ  at  all,  unless  we  are  willing  to 
be  saved  by  him  in  his  own  way,  or  upon  his  own  terms. 
We  are  not  willing  to  be  saved,  unless  the  nature  of  the 
salvation  be  agreeable  to  us.  Now  one  principal  part  of 
the  salvation  which  we  need,  and  which  Clirist  offers,  is 
deliverance  from  sin;    deliverance  from  the  power,   the 

21* 


246  THE   AVONDERFUL   COMPASSION  OF 

pleasures,  and  profits  of  sin,  as  well  as  from  the  destructive 
consequences  of  it  in  tlie  world  to  come.  Are  sinners  will- 
ing to  accept  of  such  a  salvation  as  this  from  Christ?  No, 
this  appears  no  salvation  to  them ;  this  seems  rather  a  con- 
finement, a  loss,  a  bereavement.  Thej  are  willing  to 
indulge  themselves  in  sin,  and  therefore  it  is  impossible 
they  should,  in  the  mean  time,  be  willing  to  be  restrained 
from  it,  or  deprived  of  it.  To  tear  their  sins  from  them  is 
to  rob  them  of  their  pleasures,  and  they  rise  up  in  arn^s 
against  the  attempt.  They  are  willing  to  be  happy,  but 
they  are  not  willing  to  be  holy,  in  which  alone  their  hap- 
piness consists  ;  they  are  willing  to  be  saved  from  hell,  but 
they  are  not  willing  to  be  saved  from  those  dispositions 
which  create  a  hell  within  them,  even  according  to  the 
nature  of  things ;  they  are  willing  to  go  to  heaven  when 
they  can  live  no  longer  in  this  their  favorite  world,  but 
they  are  unwilling  to  be  prepared  for  it  in  their  temper  and 
disposition.  An  eternity  spent  in  holy  exercises  would  be 
an  eternal  drudgery  to  them,  unless  they  have  a  relish  for 
holiness.  Freedom  from  sin  would  be  a  painful  bereave- 
ment to  them  while  they  take  pleasure  in  sin,  and  how  then 
could  they  be  happy,  even  in  the  very  region  of  happi- 
ness, since  the  sordid  pleasures  of  sin  never  mingle  with 
those  pure  rivers  of  living  water?  The  only  way  of  sal- 
vation, according  to  the  divine  appointment,  is  the  way  of 
holiness.  This  is  not  an  arbitrary  appointment,  but  neces- 
sary in  the  very  nature  of  things ;  for,  as  I  observed,  till 
they  are  made  holy,  it  is  impossible  in  the  nature  of  things 
they  should  be  happy  in  heaven,  because  the  happiness  of 
heaven  consists  in  the  perfection  of  holiness.  To  be  saved 
without  holiness  is  as  impossible  as  to  be  healthy  without 
health,  or  be  saved  without  salvation.  God  is  wise  in 
all  his  constitutions,  and  therefore  the  way  of  salvation  by 
Christ  is  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  things,  it  is  in  itself 
consistent  and  possible ;  and  if  sinners  are  not  willing  to 
be  saved  in  this  possible  way,  they  are  not  willing  in 
reality  to  be  saved  at  all. 

Again :  th.e  way  of  salvation  by  Christ  is  all  through 
grace.  It  is  adapted  to  stain  the  glory,  and  mortify  the 
pride  of  all  flesh,  and  to  advance  the  mercy  of  God,  and 
the  honor  of  Christ,  without  a  rival.  Now*^baughty,  self- 
righteous  sinners  are  unwilling  to  be  saved  in  this  hum- 
bling, mortifying  way,  and  thcj'cforc  they  are  unwilling  to 


CHRIST  TO   THE   GREATEST   SINNERS.  247 

be  saved  by  Christ.  If  they  would  be  saved  by  him,  they 
must  be  saved  entirely  upon  the  footing  of  his  merit,  and 
not  their  own  ;  they  must  feel  themselves  self-condemned, 
they  must  utterly  renounce  all  dependence  upon  their  own 
righteousness,  and  receive  ever}^  blessing  as  the  free,  un- 
merited gift  of  grace.  And  it  is  the  hardest  thing  imagin- 
able to  bring  a  proud  sinner  so  low  as  this ;  but  till  he  is 
brought  thus  low,  he  cannot  be  saved  upon  the  gospel  plan. 
It  would  be  inconsistent  with  the  honor  of  the  great  God, 
the  supreme  Magistrate  of  the  universe,  and  with  the  dig- 
nity of  his  government,  to  receive  a  rebel  into  favor,  on 
any  other  footing  than  that  of  mere  grace.  If  after  sin- 
ning so  much  the  sinner  still  has  merit  enough  to  procure 
a  pardon,  in  whole  or  in  part,  or  to  render  it  cruel  or  unjust 
for  God  to  condemn  and  punish  him,  certainly  he  must  be 
a  being  of  very  great  importance  indeed;  and  sin  against 
God  must  be  a  very  small  evil.  To  save  a  sinner  in  a  way 
that  would  give  any  room  for  such  insinuations  as  these, 
would  be  inconsistent  with  the  honor  of  God  and  his 
government ;  and  therefore  the  plan  he  has  constituted  is 
a  method  of  grace,  of  pure  rich  grace,  in  all  and  every 
part.  No^V"  while  sinners  are  not  willing  to  be  saved  in 
this  way,  they  are  not  willing  to  be  saved  at  all.  Here 
lies  the  grand  mistake.  Because  they  have  a  general  will- 
ingness that  Christ  should  save  them  from  hell,  they  there- 
fore conclude  they  are  really  willing  to  come  to  him 
according  to  the  gospel  constitution,  whereas  there  is 
nothing  in  the  world  to  which  they  are  more  averse. 
There  are  many  that  think,  and  perhaps  declare,  they 
would  give  ten  thousand  worlds  for  Christ,  when,  in  reality, 
they  are  not  willing  to  receive  him  as  a  free  gift ;  they  are 
not  yet  brought  to  that  extremity  as  to  fly  to  him. 

6.  The  text  implies  that  this  unwillingness  of  sinners  is 
the  real  cause  of  their  destruction. 

Sinners  complain  of  the  want  of  ability ;  but  what  is 
their  inability  but  their  unwillingness  ?  Coming  to  Christ 
is  an  act  of  the  will,  and  therefore  to  will  it  heartily  is  to 
perform  the  act.  To  be  unable  to  come  to  him  is  to  be  so 
perverse,  so  disaffected  to  Jesus  Christ,  as  not  to  have 
power  to  will  to  come  .to  him.  This,  by  the  way,  shows 
the  vanity  of  that  popular  excuse,  *'  I  am  not  able  to  fly 
to  Christ,  therefore  it  is  not  my  fault  if  I  do  not."  That 
is,  you  are  so  wicked  that  you  can  do  no  good  thing ;  you 


248  THE   WONDERFUL   COMPASSION   OF 

are  so  disaftected  to  Jesus  Christ  that  jou  have  no  will,  no 
inclination,  to  choose  him  for  your  Saviour ;  you  are  such 
an  obstinate  enemy  to  him,  that  you  would  rather  perish 
than  take  him  for  a  friend;  therefore  your  not  coming  to 
him  is  no  crime.  Is  this  consistent  reasoning?  Is  it  not 
all  one  as  if  a  rebel  should  think  to  excuse  himself  by 
pleading,  "  I  have  such  an  inveterate  hatred  to  my  sov- 
ereign that  I  cannot  love  him  ;"  or  a  robber,  "  I  have 
such  an  averson  to  honesty,  that  I  cannot  possibly  help 
stealing?  Would  not  this  be  an  aggravation  of  the  crime 
rather  than  an  excuse  ?  Sinners,  give  up  this  foolish  rea- 
soning, for  the  matter  is  too  important  to  be  trifled  with. 
Your  inability  in  this  case  is  nothing  else  then  your  un- 
willingness ;  and  your  unwillingness  is  the  effect  of  your 
disaffection  to  Jesus  Christ ;  therefore  own  that  this  is  the 
true  cause  of  your  destruction. 

In  short,  whatever  pleas  and  excuses  you  make,  you  will 
find  at  last  that  your  destruction  is  entirely  the  effect  of 
your  own  perverse  choice.  Ye  will  not  come  unto  Christ 
that  ye  might  have  life  ;  and  therefore  you  must  perish  with- 
out it.  This  reflection  will  for  ever  torment  you,  that  you 
willfully  destroyed  yourselves,  and  were  guilty  of  the  most 
unnatural  self-murder.  Jesus  was  willing,  but  you  would 
not.  God  has  even  sworn  that  lie  has  no  2^leasure  in  the 
death  of  the  iviched,  hut  that  he  turn  and  live.  To  you  there- 
fore, I  may  properly  address  that  expostulation,  Why  tcill 
ye  die  ?  Why  will  ye  ?  why  do  ye  most  willfully,  destroy 
yourselves  ?  why  do  ye  ruin  yourselves  by  your  own  free 
choice  ?  why  will  you  die  ?  you,  whom  Jesus  is  willing  to 
save,  whom  he  has  often  invited,  why  will  you,  above  all 
men  in  the  world,  causelessly  die  by  your  own  act  ?  Are 
you  capable  of  so  much  stupidity  ?  It  is  a  stupidity  that 
is  a  dreadful  peculiarity  of  your  own,  for, 

7.  Unwillingness  to  fly  to  Jesus  is  the  most  irrational, 
and  w^orse  than  brutal  stupidity.  This  is  implied  in  my 
text.  No  sooner  does  the  hen  give  the  signal  of  danger, 
then  her  little  family,  taught  by  instinct  to  understand  the 
alarm,  immediately  fly  under  her  wings.  "  So,"  says  Christ, 
"  I  gave  you  the  alarm,  but  you  would  not  regard  it ;  so  I 
spread  the  wing  of  my  guardian  care  to  defend  you,  but 
you  would  not  shelter  under  it."  To  refuse  the  offer  of 
eternal  salvation,  when  proposed  upon  the  most  reasonable 
terms — to  rash   into   hell,  rather  than  be  saved  bv  the 


CHRIST   TO   THE   GREATEST   SINNERS.  249 

friendly  hands  of  Jesus  Christ — to  suffer  the  most  terrible 
execution,  rather  than  accept  a  free  pardon — to  reject  all 
the  bliss  of  heaven  when  freely  proposed — to  choose  the 
pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season  rather  than  an  eternit}^  of  the 
most  exalted  happiness — to  resist  the  calls  of  redeeming 
love,  and  all  the  friendly  efforts  of  divine  grace,  to  save 
a  sinking  soul — is  this  the  conduct  of  a  reasonable  crea- 
ture ?     Let  me  endeavor  to  make  you  sensible, 

8.  And  lastly,  that  this  conduct  is  extremely  affecting 
and  lamentable. 

It  is  on  this  account  that  Jesus  laments  over  Jerusalem 
in  such  pathetic  strains  in  my  text.  He  knew  the  truth 
of  the  case ;  his  all-seeing  eye  took  it  in  all  its  extent,  and 
viewed  it  in  all  its  circumstances  and  consequences.  And 
since  he,  who  knew  it  best,  deeply  laments  it,  we  may  be 
sure  it  is  lamentable  indeed,  and  it  cannot  but  appear  so 
even  to  us  who  knoAV  so  little  of  it.  An  immortal  soul 
lost !  lost  for  ever !  lost  b}^  its  own  obstinacy  !  lost  amidst 
the  means  of  salvation !  how  tragical  a  case  is  this ! — God 
dishonored  1  Jesus  rejected !  his  love  defeated !  his  blood 
trampled  upon !  his  spirit  grieved !  how  lamentable  is 
this  ?  And  yet  are  there  not  some  of  you  in  this  lament- 
able condition  in  this  assembly  ?  It  was  over  such  as  you 
that  Jesus  wept  and  mourned.  And  shall  he  weep  alone ! 
Shall  not  our  tears  keep  time  with  his,  since  we  are  so 
much  more  nearly  concerned  ?  0  that  our  heads  loere 
ivaters,  and  our  eyes  fountains  of  team's,  that  we  might  weep 
along  with  the  Saviour  of  men  !  But,  alas  !  our  tears  are 
too  much  reserved  for  djdng  friends,  or  some  less  affecting 
object,  while  immortal  souls  perish  around  us,  unpitied, 
unlamented ! 


xxiy. 

THE  NATURE  AND  AUTHOR  OF  REGENERATION. 

"  Marvel  not  that  I  said  unto  thee,  Ye  must  be  born  again." — John,  iii.  1. 

Those  doctrines  are  not  always  most  absurd  in  them- 
selves, nor  strange  to  a  well-informed  mind,  which  are  most 


250  THE   NATURE   AND 

wondered  at  in  the  world.  Ignorance  is  apt  to  wonder 
where  knowledge  discovers  nothing  amazing  or  unaccount- 
able. To  support  our  observations  proofs  might  be  given  ; 
but  it  is  to  my  present  purpose  to  take  notice  only  of  one, 
one  that  excited  from  Nicodemus  wonder,  about  1700 
years  ago,  and  is  still  wondered  at ;  nay,  more,  is  ridiculed 
in  an  ignorant  world  :  I  mean  the  doctrine  of  regeneration, 
or  the  New  Birth.  Nicodemus  comes  to  Christ  with  a 
conviction  of  his  high  character  as  a  teacher  from  God, 
who  attested  his  commission  by  the  strong  and  popular 
evidence  of  miracles.  From  such  a  teacher  he  expects 
sublime  instructions  ;  and  from  his  own  improvements  in 
Jewish  learning,  he,  no  doubt,  flatters  himself  he  shall  be 
able  to  comprehend  them ;  but  when,  instead  of  gratifying 
his  curiosity  by  telling  him  great  and  strange  things  of  the 
Messiah,  as  a  secular  prince,  and  a  mighty  conqueror,  as 
he  and  his  countrymen  expected,  or  discoursing  like  a 
Eabbi  on  the  Jewish  law  ;  I  say,  when,  instead  of  this, 
Jesus  opens  the  conference  by  a  solemn  and  authoritative 
declaration  of  the  necessity  of  something  under  the  name 
of  another  birth,  how  is  Nicodemus  surprised !  This  he 
cannot  understand.  This  seems  strange,  new  doctrine  to 
him,  and  he  has  an  objection  ready  against  it,  as  an  absurd- 
ity and  an  impossibility :  Hoio  can  a  man  he  horn  ivhen  he 
is  old?  Can  lie  enter  the  second  tirtie  into  his  'mother's  luomh, 
and  ke  horn  f  This  objection,  which  was  altogether  impert- 
inent, and  founded  upon  a  gross  mistaken  notion  of  the 
doctrine,  may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  all  the  objections  that 
have  been  made  against  this  doctrine  ever  since ;  they  have 
all  proceeded  from  ignorance,  or  from  gross  mistaken  no- 
tions of  an  evident  truth ;  and  hence  men  have  imagined, 
like  this  master  of  Israel,  that  they  reasoned  strongly  against 
it,  when  in  reality  they  were  saying  nothing  at  all  to  the 
purpose,  and  did  not  as  much  as  understand  the  case. 

Our  condescending  Lord  took  a  great  deal  of  pains  to 
give  Nicodemus  right  notions  of  this  doctfine.  For  this 
purpose  he  presents  it  before  him  in  various  views.  He 
tells  him  he  did  not  mean  a  second  natural  birth,  but  a 
birth  of  water  and  of  the  spirit ;  a  birth  that  renders  a  man 
spiritual,  and  consequently  fit  for  that  spiritual  kingdom  he 
was  about  to  erect ;  and  that  the  free  and  sovereign  Spirit 
of  God,  the  Author  of  this  new  birth,  operated  like  the 
wind,  that  blowcth  lohere  it  Usteth. 


AUTHOK   OF   REGENERATION.  261 

The  connection  of  my  text  is  this :  That  which  is  horn  of 
the  fiesh  is  flesh  ;  and  that  luhich  is  horn  of  the  spirit  is  spirit; 
therefore  marvel  not  that  I  said  unto  thee.  Ye  must  he  horn 
again.  That  is  to  say,  "the  doctrine  you  are  so  much 
surprised  at,  is  not  at  all  absurd,  so  as  to  make  you  wonder 
to  hear  it  from  my  mouth.  You  cannot  but  know  that  all 
mankind  are  born  of  the  flesh ;  that  is,  propagated  in  a 
way  that  communicates  a  depraved  nature  to  them ;  and 
hence  they  are  flesh;  that  is,  corrupt  and  carnal;  and 
therefore  wholly  unfit  to  be  admitted  into  my  kingdom, 
which  is  pure  and  spiritual.  But  that  which  is  born  of  the 
spirit,  is  spirit ;  that  is,  spiritual  and  holy ;  and  therefore 
fit  for  that  spiritual  and  holy  kingdom,  which  I  am  come 
to  set  up.  Now,  if  this  be  the  case,  you  have  certainly  no 
need  to  marvel  at  this  doctrine  :  can  it  seem  strange  to  you, 
that  impure,  unholy  creatures  must  be  changed,  before  they 
can  be  fit  for  members  of  so  holy  a  society  ?  -Can  you 
marvel  at  this  ?  No ;  you  would  have  more  reason  to 
marvel  at  the  contrary. 

Let  us  inquire  what  the  new  birth  is.     And, 

Who  is  the  author  of  it? 

And  in  what  way  does  he  generally  produce  it  ? 

Let  us  inquire,  what  it  is  to  be  born  again  ? 

To  gain  your  attention  to  this  inquiry,  I  need  only  put 
you  in  mind,  that  whatever  be  meant  by  the  new  birth,  it  is 
not  an  insignificant  speculation,  not  the  disputed  peculiarity 
of  a  party,  not  the  attainment  of  a  few  good  men  of  the  first 
class,  but  it  is  essential  to  every  good  man,  and  absolutely 
necessary  to  salvation.  You  cannot  doubt  this,  if  you  look 
upon  Jesus  Christ  as  a  person  of  common  veracity,  and 
worthy  of  credit  in  his  most  solemn  declarations ;  for  he  has 
declared,  over  and  over  again,  with  the  utmost  solemnity, 
that  Except  a  man  he  horn  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  Attend  then,  if  you  think  your  eternal  salva- 
tion worthy  your  attention.  The  phrase  to  he  horn  again, 
like  most  other  expressions  used  upon  divine  subjects,  is 
metaphorical,  and  brings  in  natural  things,  with  which  we 
are  familiarly  acquainted,  to  assist  our  conceptions  of  divine 
things,  which  might  otherwise  be  above  our  comprehension. 
We  all  know  what  it  is  to  be  born ;  and  our  knowledge 
of  this  may  help  us  to  understand  what  it  is  to  be  born 
again.  As  by  our  first  birth  we  became  men,  or  partake 
of  human  nature ;  so,  by  our  second  birth,  we  become 


252  THE   NATUKE   AND 

Christians,  and  are  made  partakers  of  a  divine  and  spiritual 
nature.  As  our  first  birth  introduces  us  into  this  world, 
and  into  human  society,  so  our  second  birth  introduces  us 
into  the  church  of  Christ,  and  makes  us  true  members  of 
that  holy  society.  As  by  our  first  birth  we  resemble  our 
parents,  at  least  in  the  principal  lineaments  of  human 
nature,  so  by  our  second  birth  we  are  made  partakers  of  the 
divine  nature ;  that  is,  we  are  made  to  resemble  the  blessed 
God  in  holiness ;  or,  as  St.  Paul  expresses  it,  we  are  renewed 
after  his  image  in  knowledge,  righteousness,  and  true  holiness. 
The  effect  is  like  its  cause  ;  the  child  like  the  parent.  In 
our  first  birth  we  are  endowed  with  childlike  and  filial 
dispositions  towards  our  human  parents ;  and  when  we 
are  born  of  Grod,  we  are  inspired  with  a  childlike  and  filial 
temper  towards  him  as  our  heavenly  Father.  By  our 
natural  birth  we  are  placed  in  an  imperfect,  but  growing- 
state.  We  have  all  the  powers  of  human  nature,  though 
none  of  them  in  perfection  ;  but  from  that  time  they  grow 
and  improve  till  they  at  length  arrive  at  maturity.  In 
like  manner,  in  our  second  birth,  all  the  principles  of  virtue 
and  grace  are  implanted ;  but  their  growth  and  improve- 
ment is  the  work  of  the  Christian  life.  And  from  that 
time  they  continue  gradually  growing,  though  with 
many  interruptions,  till  at  death  they  arrive  at  maturity 
and  perfection.  In  our  natural  life  we  pass  through  a 
great  change.  The  infant  that  had  lain  in  darkness, 
breathless,  and  almost  insensible,  and  with  little  more  than 
a  vegetative  life,  enters  into  a  new  state,  feels  new  sensa- 
tions, craves  a  new  kind  of  nourishment,  and  discovers  new 
powers.  In  like  manner,  in  the  second  birth,  the  sinner 
passes  through  a  great  change  :  a  change  as  to  his  view  of 
divine  things;  as  to  his  temper,  his  practice,  and  his  state  ; 
a  change  so  great  that  he  may  with  propriety  be  denom- 
inated another  man,  or  a  new  creature. 

The  various  forms  of  expression  which  the  Scripture 
uses  to  represent  what  is  here  called  a  second  birth,  all 
conspire  to  teach  us  that  it  consists  in  a  great  change.  It 
is  represented  as  a  resurrection,  or  a  change  from  death 
unto  life :  You  hatli  he  quickened  into  life,  saith  St.  Paul,  ivho 
were  dead  in  tresjyasses  and  sins.  It  is  represented  as  a  new 
creation :  ff  any  man  he  in  Christ,  says  the  same  inspired 
author,  he  is  a  new  creature:  old  things  are  passed  away ;  and 
behold  all  things  are  become  new.     Put  on,  says  he,  tJic  new 


AUTHOR   OF   REGENERATION.  253 

man,  which,  after  God,  is  created  in  righteousness  and  true 
holiness.  These,  and  like  expressions,  signify  a  very  great 
change;  and  such  forms  of  speech  are  very  commonly 
used  in  the  same  sense,  which  shows  that  they  are  so  far 
from  being  ridiculous,  that  they  are  agreeable  to  the  com- 
mon sense  of  mankind. 

Now,  since  it  is  evident  that  the  new  birth  signifies  a 
great  change,  you  are  impatient,  by  this  time,  I  hope,  to 
know  more  particularly  what  it  is.  It  is  the  change  of  a 
thoughtless,  ignorant,  hard-hearted,  rebellious  sinner  into 
a  thoughtful,  well-informed,  tender-hearted,  dutiful  servant 
of  God.  It  is  the  implantation  of  the  seeds  or  principles 
of  every  grace  and  virtue  in  a  heart  that  was  entirely  des- 
titute of  them  and  full  of  sin.  The  sinner  that  was  wont 
to  have  no  practical  affectionate  regard  for  the  great  God, 
is  now  made  to  revere,  admire,  and  love  him  as  the  greatest 
and  best  of  Beings ;  to  rejoice  in  him  as  his  supreme  hap- 
piness, and  cheerfully  submit  to  him  as  his  Ruler.  For- 
merly his  temper  and  conduct  would  better  agree  to  the 
iufidelity  of  an  atheist  than  to  the  faith  of  a  Christian ;  but 
now,  he  thinks,  and  speaks,  and  acts  as  one  that  really 
believes  there  is  a  God — a  God  who  inspects  all  his  ways, 
and  will  call  him  to  an  account.  The  heart  that  had  no 
realizing  affecting  views  of  a  future  state,  now  feels  the 
energy  of  that  doctrine,  and  looks  upon  heaven  and  hell  as 
indeed  the  most  important  realities.  The  heart  that  was 
once  earthly  and  sensual,  eagerly  set  upon  things  below, 
as  its  main  pursuit,  is  now  taught  to  aspire  to  heaven  ;  in 
heaven  is  its  treasure,  and  there  it  will  be.  The  thoughts 
that  were  once  scattered  among  a  thousand  trifles,  are  now 
frequently  collected,  and  fixed  upon  the  great  concerns  of 
religion.  Now,  also,  the  heart  is  remarkably  altered  towards 
the  Lord  Jesus :  formerly  it  seemed  sufficient  to  wear  his 
name,  to  profess  his  religion,  to  believe  him  to  be  the  Saviour 
of  the  world,  and  to  give  a  formal  attendance  upon  the 
institutions  of  his  worship ;  but  0 !  now  he  appears  in  a 
more  important  and  interesting  light.  Now  the  sinner  is 
deeply  sensible  that  he  is  indeed  the  only  Saviour,  and  he 
most  eagerly  embraces  him  under  that  endearing  character, 
and  intrusts  his  eternal  all  in  his  hands.  Now,  also,  the 
man  has  very  different  views  of  himself:  he  sees  himself 
to  be  a  guilty,  depraved,  vile  creature,  all  overrun  with 
sin,  and  destitute  of  all  goodness,  but  as  it  is  wrought  in 

22 


254  THE  NATURE  AND 

liim  by  divine  grace  ;  how  different  is  this  from  the  proud, 
self-righteous  estimate  he  was  wont  to  form  of  himself! 
His  views  of  sin  are  also  quite  different  from  what  they 
used  to  be :  he  used  to  look  upon  it  as  a  slight  excusable 
evil,  except  when  it  broke  out  into  some  gross  acts.  But 
now  he  sees  it  to  be  unspeakably  vile  and  base,  in  every 
instance  and  degree.  An  evil  thought,  a  corrupt  motion 
of  desire,  an  indisposed  heart  towards  God,  appears  to  be 
a  shocking  evil,  such  as  nothing  but  the  infinite  mercy  of 
God  can  forgive,  and  even  that  mercy,  upon  no  other 
account  but  that  of  the  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ.  He 
sees  it  does  most  justly  deserve  everlasting  punishment. 
It  breaks  his  heart  to  think  that  he  indulged  so  base  a  thing 
so  long,  and  he  can  never  be  fully  reconciled  to  himself 
while  he  feels  the  remains  of  it  within  him.  His  repent- 
ance now  takes  a  new  turn.  Formerly  he  was  entirely 
under  the  influence  of  self-love,  and  therefore,  when  he 
had  any  concern  for  his  sin,  it  entirely  proceeded  from  the 
servile  principle  of  fear ;  fear  of  the  punishment,  and  not 
hatred  of  the  crime ;  now  he  can  mourn  over  sin,  as  a 
base  and  ungrateful  evil,  even  when  he  has  no  thoughts  of 
the  punishment;  now  he  can  mourn  over  sin  as  against 
God,  and  not  only  as  against  a  sin-punishing,  but  as  against 
a  sin-pardoning  God.  0  !  that  he  should  be  so  base  as  to 
sin  against  a  God  who  is  so  gracious  as  to  forgive  him  after 
all!  This  thought  breaks  his  heart ;  and  God's  forgiving 
him  is  a  reason  why  he  can  never  forgive  himself  The 
heart  has  also  a  new  temper  in  the  duties  of  religion :  it 
can  no  more  indulge  an  habitual  coldness  or  lukewarmness 
in  them,  but  exerts  its  power  to  the  utmost ;  and  when  it 
has  a  languishing  interval,  it  cannot  be  easy  in  that  condi- 
tion, but  tries  to  rouse  itself  again.  Now  religion  is  no 
longer  a  matter  by  the  by,  but  a  serious  business;  and 
every  thing  that  comes  in  competition  with  it  must  give 
way* to  it.  The  man  is  resolved  to  save  his  soul  at  all 
adventures ;  and  this,  he  is  now  convinced,  is  no  easy  work. 
To  sum  up  the  whole,  for  I  can  only  give  a  few  specimens 
of  particulars,  the  regenerate  soul  is  changed  universally 
in  every  part.  I  do  not  mean  the  change  is  perfect  in  any 
part:  alas!  no;  sin  still  lives,  and  sometimes  makes 
violent  struggles,  though  crucified.  The  old  man  dies 
hard,  but  I  mean,  the  change  does  really  extend  to  every 
part.    The  soul  is  in  no  respect  the  same  as  it  was  wont  to 


AUTHOIi   OF   KEGENEKATION.  255 

be,  as  to  the  concerns  of  religion.  It  lias  new  views,  ncAv 
sensations,  new  joys,  new  sorrows,  new  inclinations  and 
aversions,  new  hopes  and  fears ;  in  short,  as  the  apostle 
tells  us,  all  things  are  hecome  new.  The  ivhole  man,  soul, 
hody,  and  spirit,  is  sanctified.  By  way  of  confirmation,  let 
me  add  a  few  characters  of  a  regenerate  man,  which  are 
expressly  scriptural.  Every  one  that  is  horn  of  God  over- 
cometh  the  world ;  and  this  is  the  victory  that  overcometh  the 
world^  even  our  faith.  That  is,  whatever  temptations  may 
arise  from  the  riches,  honors,  or  pleasures  of  the  world,  or 
from  the  society  of  mankind,  the  man  that  is  born  of  God 
has  such  believing  views  of  eternal  things,  as  constrains 
him  to  conflict  with  them,  and  overcome  them.  He  is  en- 
abled, by  divine  grace,  to  brave  dangers,  and  encounter 
difficulties  in  so  good  a  cause ;  he  dares  to  be  wise  and 
happy,  though  all  the  world  should  turn  against  him.  O 
what  a  change  is  this  from  his  former  temper ! 

Another  distinguishing  characteristic  of  the  new  birth, 
is  universal  holiness  of  practice,  or  a  conscientious  obser- 
vance of  every  known  duty,  and  an  honest,  zealous  resist- 
ance of  every  known  sin.  There  is  no  known  duty  how- 
ever unfashionable,  disagreeable,  or  dangerous,  but  what 
the  true  convert  honestly  endeavors  to  perform ;  and  there 
is  no  known  sin,  however  customary,  pleasing,  or  gainful, 
but  what  he  honestly  resists,  and  from  which  he  labors  to 
abstain.  When  the  heart  is  made  holy,  it  will  infallibly 
produce  habitual  holiness  of  practice.  This  St.  John 
asserts  in  the  strongest  manner,  and  in  various  forras. 
We  know,  says  he,  that  every  one  that  doeth  righteousness  is 
horn  of  God.  We  know  that  lohosoever  is  horn  of  God  sinneth 
not ;  that  is,  keepeth  himself  from  the  infection  of  sin  ;  and 
that  wicked  one  toucheth  him  not.  Little  children,  says  he, 
let  no  man  deceive  you:  he  that  doeth  righteousness  is  righ- 
teous. But  he  that  committeth  sin  is  of  the  devil.  Whosoever 
is  horn  of  God  doth  not  commit  sin  ;  i.  e.  as  I  explained  it 
before,  he  does  not  habitually  sin  in  the  general  tenor  of 
his  practice,  so  as  to  make  sin  his  distinguishing  character  ; 
for  his  seed  remaineth  in  him;  that  is,  the  principles  of  grace, 
implanted  in  him  in  regeneration,  are  immortal,  and  will 
never  suffer  him  to  give  himself  up  to  sin,  as  formerly ; 
and  lie  cannot  siri  hecausehe  is  horn  of  God:  his  being  born 
of  God  happily  disables  him  for  ever  from  abandoning 
himself  to  sin  again.     In  this  the  children  of  God  are  mani- 


256  THE   NATUKE   AND 

fest ;  and  the  children  of  the  devil ;  that  is,  this  is  the  grand 
distinguishing  characteristic  existing  between  them,  who- 
soever doth  not  righteousness  is  not  of  God,  You  see,  then,  a 
holy  practice  is  one  of  the  most  certain  signs  of  regenera- 
tion; and  therefore  in  vain  do  such  pretend  to  it,  or 
boast  of  high  attainments  in  inward  experimental  religion, 
who  are  not  holy  in  all  manner  of  conversation,  and  do  not 
live  righteously,  soberly,  and  godly  in  the  world. 

By  this  time,  I  hope,  my  brethren,  you  understand  what 
it  is  to  be  born  again.  And  now,  upon  a  review  of  the 
subject,  there  are  several  things  of  importance  which  I 
would  submit  to  your  consideration. 

First,  I  leave  you  now  to  consider,  whether  baptism 
be  the  same  thing  Avith  regeneration,  or  the  new  birth  in 
the  Scripture  sense. 

If  baptism  be  regeneration  in  the"*Scripture  sense,  then, 
whatsoever  the  Scripture  saj^s  concerning  persons  regen- 
erated, born  again,  or  created  anew,  will  also  hold  true 
concerning  persons  baptized.  Proceeding  upon  this  obvi- 
ous principle  let  us  make  the  trial  in  a  few  instances.  It 
maytbe  truly  said  of  him  that  is  born  of  God,  in  the  Scrip- 
ture sense,  that  he  does  not  habitually  sin,  &c.  IS'ow  sub- 
stitute baptized,  instead  of  born  of  God,  and  consider  how 
it  will  read,  "  Every  one  that  is  baptized  sinneth  not ;  but 
he  that  is  baptized  keepeth  himself;  and  the  evil  one 
toucheth  him  not."  Has  this  the  appearance  of  truth? 
Do  not  all  of  you  know  so  much  of  the  conduct  of  many 
who  have  been  baptized  as  to  see  this  is  most  notoriously 
false?  for  where  can  you  find  more  audacious  sinners 
upon  earth,  than  many  who  have  been  baptized  ?  Let  us 
make  another  trial.  Whosoever  is  horn  of  God,  in  the 
Scripture  sense,  overcometh  the  world.  But  will  it  hold 
true,  that  whosoever  is  baptized  overcometh.  the  world? 
If  (.my  man  he  in  Christ,  in  the  Scripture  sense,  he  is  a  new 
creaiure  ;  old  things  are  passed  away,  and  all  things  are  he- 
come  neiu  !  Does  baptism  universally  make  such  a  change 
in  the  subject  as  that  it  may,  with  any  tolerable  propriety, 
be  called  a  new  creation  ?  That  man  must  labor  to  be 
deceived,  who  can  work  up  himself  to  believe,  after  such 
a  representation  of  the  case,  that  if  he  has  been  baptized  he 
has  all  that  regeneration  which  is  necessary  to  his  admis- 
sion into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  I  can  find  no  Scripture 
that  says   of  baptism,   "  This  is   regeneration."    Another 


AUTHOR   OF   REGENERATION.  257 

thing  which  I  would  now  leave  to  your  consideration  is, 
whether  regeneration  or  the  new  birth,  in  the  sense  I  have 
explained  it,  be  not  a  rational,  noble  thing?  And  whether 
so  great  a  change  in  a  man's  temper  and  conduct  may  not 
emphatically  be  called  a  new  birth  ?  When  a  man  is  born 
again,  the  ruins  of  his  nature  are  repaired,  and  every  noble 
and  divine  grace  and  virtue  are  implanted  in  his  heart. 
His  heart  is  made  capable  of  generous  sensations ;  his  un- 
derstanding has  suitable  views  of  the  most  interesting  and 
sublime  objects ;  and  his  temper  and  behavior  are  rightly 
formed  towards  God  and  man.  This  change  gives  a  man 
the  very  temper  of  heaven,  and  prepares  him  for  the  enjoy- 
ments and  employments  of  that  holy  place.  Therefore, 
'marvel  not  that  I  say  unto  you,  ye  must  he  horn  again.  Do 
not  gaze  and  wonder  at  me,  as  if  I  told  you  some  strange, 
new,  absurd  thing,  when  I  tell  you,  you  must  be  regener- 
ated in  the  manner  I  have  explained,  if  ever  you  would 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Consult  your  own 
reason  and  experience,  and  they  will  tell  you  that  as 
heaven  is  the  region  of  perfect  holiness,  and  as  you  are 
indisputably  corrupted,  depraved  creatures,  you  must  be 
so  changed,  as  to  be  made  holy,  or,  in  other  words,  3^011 
must  be  born  again,  before  you  can  enjoy  the  happiness 
of  that  sacred  region ;  or  consult  the  Bible,  and  you  will 
find  the  absolute  necessity  of  being  born  again  asserted  in 
the  strongest  terms.  Need  I  remind  you  of  the  solemn 
asseveration  of  Christ  in  my  context,  Verily,  verily,  I  say 
unto  thee,  except  a  unan  he  horn  again,  he  cannot  see  the  king- 
dom of  heaven !  The  same  blessed  lips  have  assured  ns, 
that,  except  we  he  converted,  and  hecoviie  as  little  children,  ice 
cannot  enter  into  his  kingdom.  St.  Paul  speaks  in  the  same 
strain :  If  any  man  he  in  Christ,  as  we  all  must  be  before 
we  can  be  saved  by  him,  he  is  a  new  creature,  kc.  In 
Christ  Jesus,  says  he,  neither  cii'cumcisioji  availeth  any  thing, 
nor  uncircumcision,  hut  the  new  creature.  All  external 
forms  of  religion,  whether  Jewish  or  Christian,  are  of  no 
avail,  without  this  new  creation. 

Now  if  this  be  true,  that  except  a  man  be  born  again  he 
cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God,  then  it  will  follow, 
that  jtist  as  many  persons  in  this  assembly  as  have  been 
born  again,  just  so  many  are  in  a  state  of  fevor  with  God, 
and  prepared  for  the  happiness  of  heaven.  And,  on  the 
other  hand,  just  as  many  as  are  unregenerate,  just  so  many 


258  THE   NATURE   AND 

lie  dead  in  sin,  under  the  wrath  of  God,  and  liable  to  ever- 
lasting misery.  Let  each  of  you  particularly  admit  this 
conviction :  "  If  I  am  not  born  again,  I  have  not  the  least 
ground  to  hope  for  happiness  in  my  present  state." 

Upon  this  follows  another  inquiry,  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance ;  and  that  is,  whether  you  have  ever  experienced  the 
blessed  change  of  the  new  birth?  Have  your  views,  your 
dispositions,  and  your  conduct  been  changed  in  the  man- 
ner described  ?  and  can  you  lay  claim  to  those  distinguish- 
ing characters  of  a  regenerate  soul  which  have  been  men- 
tioned ?  Pause,  and  think  seriously ;  recollect  your  past 
experiences ;  look  into  your  own  hearts ;  observe  the  tenor 
of  your  practice  ;  and  from  the  whole,  endeavor  to  gather 
an  honest  answer  to  this  grand  question,  "  Have  I  been 
born  again?" 

If  you  can  answer  this  in  your  favor,  St.  Peter  will  tell 
you  the  happy  consequences  :  Blessed  he  the  God  and  Father 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who,  according  to  his  abundant 
mercy,  hath  begotten  us  again  to  a  lively  hope — to  an  inherit- 
ance incorruptihle  and  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away, 
reserved  in  heaven  for  you,  who  are  kept  by  the  power  of  Ood, 
through  faith  unto  salvation.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand, 
you  find  you  have  never  been  born  again,  what  is  to  be 
done  ?  Must  you  lie  still  in  that  condition,  or  shall  you 
try  to  get  out  of  it  ?  I  am  sure  my  design  in  endeavoring 
to  let  you  see  your  condition,  is  that  you  may  escape  out 
of  it,  and  be  happy  ;  and  if  you  are  so  kind  to  yourselves 
as  to  concur  with  me  in  this  design,  I  hope,  through  divine 
grace,  we  shall  succeed.  This  introduces  the  next  inquiry, 
namely, 

II.  Who  is  the  author  of  this  divine  change,  called  the 
new  birth? 

The  change  is  so  great^  so  noble,  and  divine,  that  from 
thence  alone  we  may  infer  it  can  be  produced  only  by 
divine  power.  And  the  nature  of  man,  in  its  present 
state,  is  so  corrupt  and  weak  that  it  is  neither  inclined  nor 
able  to  produce  it.  It  is  also  uniformly  ascribed  to  God 
in  the  sacred  writings.  Born  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  ivill 
of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God.  And  it  is 
he  who  has  changed  many  a  heart  in  our  guilty  world. 
Here  the  next  inquiry  comes  in  very  seasonably,  namely, 

III.  In  what  wa}^  docs  this  divine  agent  produce  this 
change  ? 


AUTHOii   OF   KEGENEKATION.  259 

He  generally  carries  it  on  in  the  following  manner.  The 
first  step  is  to  convince  the  sinner  of  his  need  of  this 
change,  by  discovering  to  him  his  guilt  and  danger,  and 
particularly  the  universal  corruption  of  his  nature.  He  is 
roused  out  of  a  state  of  a  stupid  security  by  an  affecting 
view  of  the  holiness  of  God,  of  the  purity  of  his  law,  of 
the  terror  of  its  penalty,  of  the  great  evil  of  sin,  and  of 
his  own  exposedness  to  the  divine  displeasure  upon  the 
account  of  it.  Upon  this  he  becomes  sad  and  serious,  un- 
easy in  his  mind,  and  anxious  about  his  condition.  He 
endeavors  to  reform  his  life ;  he  prays  and  uses  the  other 
means  of  grace  with  earnestness  unknown  before.  And 
when  he  has  gone  on  in  this  course  for  some  time,  he  be- 
gins perhaps. to  flatter  himlelf  that  now  he  is  in  a  safe  con- 
dition. But,  alas!  he  does  not  yet  know  the  worst  of 
himself  Therefore  the  Holy  Spirit  opens  his  eyes  to  see  the 
inward  universal  corruption  of  his  whole  soul,  and  that  a 
mere  outward  reformation  is  far  from  being  a  sufficient 
cure  of  a  disease  so  inveterate.  Hereupon  the  awakened 
siimer  betakes  himself  to  the  means  of  grace  with  I'e- 
doubled  vigor  and  earnestness,  and  strives  to  change  the 
principles  of  action  within.  But,  alas !  he  finds  his  heart 
is  a  stubborn  thing,  and  altogether  unmanageable  to  him  ; 
and  after  repeated  strivings  to  no  purpose,  he  is  effectually 
convinced  of  his  own  inability,  and  the  absolute  necessity 
of  the  exertion  of  divine  power  to  make  liim  truly  good. 
Therefore  he  lies  at  the  throne  of  grace,  as  a  poor,  anxious, 
helpless  sinner,  entirely  at  mercy,  and  unable  to  relieve 
himself  Now  the  important  hour  is  come,  when  the  old 
man  must  be  crucified;  when  the  divine  and  immortal 
principles  must  be  implanted  in  a  heart  full  of  sin,  and 
when  the  dead  sinner  must  begin  to  live  a  holy  and  divine 
life.  The  great  God  instantaneously  changes  the  whole 
soul,  and  gives  it  a  new  and  heavenly  turn.  In  short, 
now  is  wrought  that  important  change,  which  I  have 
already  described,  which  is  called  the  new  birth,  and 
denominates  the  man  a  new  creature. 

Here  again  you  may  furnish  yourself  materials  for  self- 
examination.  If  you  have  been  born  again,  you  have 
thus  felt  the  pangs  of  a  new  birth,  and  seen  your  guilty, 
sinful,  and  dangerous  condition  in  a  true  light.  And 
what  do  those  of  you  who  are  in  a  state  of  nature  deter- 
mine to  do  ?     Will  you  not  resolve  to  seek  after  this  im- 


260  THE   WAY   OF   SII^ 

portant  change,  upon  which  your  eternal  all  depends? 
Oh,  let  us  part  to-daj  fully  determined  upon  this — that  we 
will  implore  the  power  and  mercy  of  God  to  create  in  us 
clean  hearts,  and  renew  within  us  right  spirits. 


■♦♦■»• 


XXV. 

THE  WAY  OF  Sm  HARD  AND  DIFFICULT. 

"  It  is  hard  for  thee  to  kick  against  the  pricks." — Acts,  iv.  6, 

You  often  hear  of  the  narrow  and  rugged  road  of  reli- 
gion, which  leadeth  unto  lifcj  and  some  of  you,  I  am  afraid, 
have  not  courage  enough  to  venture  upon  it.  You  rather 
choose  the  smooth,  broad,  down-hill  road  to  vice  and 
pleasure,  though  it  leads  down  to  the  chambers  of  death. 
It  must  be  owned  that  a  relisrious  life  is  a  course  of  difii- 
culties,  a  hard  struggle,  a  constant  conflict ;  and  it  is  fit  you 
should  be  honestly  informed  of  it ;  but  then  it  is  fit  you 
should  also  know  that  the  difficulties  arise,  not  from  the 
nature  of  religion,  but  from  the  corruption  and  depravity 
of  the  nature  of  man  in  its  present  degenerate  state.  A 
course  of  religion  is  disagreeable,  is  hard,  is  difficult*' to 
mankind,  just  as  a  course  of  action  is  difficult  to  the  sick, 
though  it  is  easy  and  affords  pleasure  to  those  that  arc  well. 
There  are  difficulties  in  the  way  of  sin  as  well  as  in  that 
of  holiness,  though  the  depravity  of  mankind  renders 
them  insensible  of  it.  This  is  the  view  of  the  case  I  would 
now  lay  before  you.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  it  is  true, 
that  it  is  a  hard  thing  to  be  a  sinner  as  well  as  to  be  a 
saint ;  there  are  difficulties  in  the  way  to  hell  as  well  as  in 
the  way  to  heaven.  And  if  you  are  insensible  of  them, 
it  is  owing,  as  I  just  observed,  to  the  corruption  of  your 
nature,  and  not  to  the  real  easiness  of  the  thing  itself  If 
it  be  hard,  in  one  sense,  to  live  a  life  of  holiness,  it  is  cer- 
tainly hard,  in  another  sense,  to  live  a  life  of  sin  ;  namely, 
to  run  against  conscience,  against  reason,  against  honor, 
against  interest,  against  all  the  strong  and  endearing  obli- 
gations you  are  under  to  God,  to  mankind,  and  to  3'our- 


HARD   AND   DIFFICULT.  261 

selves ;  or,  in  tlie  words  of  my  text,  it  is  hard  for  you  to 
kick  against  the  pricks. 

This  is  a  proverb,  in  use  among  various  nations,  which 
has  received  a  sanction  from  heaven  in  the  text.  To  kick 
against  the  jfyricks,  is  an  allusion  to  a  lazy  or  unruly  plough- 
horse,  or  ox,  that  when  pricked  with  a  goad  (an  instru- 
ment used  in  ploughing,  in  sundry  places,  instead  of  a 
whip)  refuses  to  go  on,  and  spurns  and  kicks  against  the 
goad,  and  so  wounds  himself  and  not  the  driver.  It  is  to 
this  the  phrase  alludes;  and  it  signifies  a  resistance  inju- 
rious to  the  person  that  makes  it,  when  it  would  be  easy  to 
obey.  Hence  we  may  learn  the  precise  sense  in  which  it 
is  used  by  the  mouth  of  Christ,  in  his  pungent  address  to 
Saul  the  persecutor,  whom  we  now  know  under  the  higher 
name  of  Paul  the  apostle. 

Saul,  animated  with-  a  furious,  misguided,  though  honest 
zeal,  against  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  was  now  on  his  way  to 
Damascus  in  pursuit  of  them,  and  had  a  commission  from 
the  highest  court  of  the  Jews  to  apprehend  them,  a  com- 
mission which  he  was  impatient  to  execute.  This,  in 
human  view,  was  a  very  unpromising  hour  for  his  conver- 
sion; now  it  appears  more  likely  that  vengeance  will 
arrest  him  as  a  criminal,  than  that  grace  will  prevent  him 
as  a  vessel  of  mercy.  But  O  !  what  agreeable  exploits  of 
grace  has  Jesus  performed !  At  the  first  introduction  of 
his  religion,  it  was  fit  he  should  single  out  some  great  sin- 
ner, and  make  him  a  monument  of  his  mercy,  for  the  en- 
couragement of  future  ages.  Therefore  he  surprises  this 
fierce  persecutor  in  his  daring  career,  darts  the  splendor 
of  his  glory  around  him,  and  pierces  him  to  the  heart 
with  this  irresistible  expostulation,  Saul,  Saul,  lohy  perse- 
cutest  thou  me  F  Saul,  in  a  trembling  consternation,  replies, 
Who  art  thou,  Lord?  He  thought  he  was  only  bringing  to 
justice  a  parcel  of  contemptible,  blasphemous  sectaries, 
unworthy  of  toleration ;  and  little  did  he  think  that  his 
persecuting  zeal  reached  so  high ;  little  did  he  expect  to 
hear  one  crying  from  the  throne  of  heaven.  Why  persecu- 
test  thou  me?  But  Jesus  feels  and  resents  the  injuries  done 
to  his  people  as  done  to  himself.  The  head  sympathizes 
with  its  members ;  therefore  he  answers,  /  am  Jesus  ivhom 
thou  persecutest.  And  then  follows  my'  text.  It  is  hard  for 
thee  to  kick  against  the  pricks. 

That  I  may  the  more  fully  illustrate  the  striking  thought 


262  THE   WAY   OF   SIX 

suggested  by  my  text,  I  shall  point  out  to  you  some  seem- 
ingly insuperable  obstacles  in  the  way  to  hell,  or  some  dire 
exploits,  which  one  would  think  would  be  too  hard  for 
you  to  perform,  which  you  must  perform,  if  you  persist  in 
a  course  of  sin. 

1.  Is  it  not  a  hard  thing  to  be  an  unbeliever  or  a  deist, 
in  our  age  and  country,  while  the  light  of  the  gospel  shines 
around  us  with  full  blaze  of  evidence  ?  Before  a  man  can 
work  up  himself  to  the  disbelief  of  a  religion  attended 
with  such  undeniable  evidence,  and  inspiring  such  divine 
dispositions  and  exalted  hopes,  what  absurdities  must  he 
embrace !  what  strong  convictions  must  he  resist !  what 
dark  suspicions,  what  boding  fears  and  misgivings,  what 
shocking  peradventures  and  tremendous  doubts  must  he 
struggle  with  !  what  glorious  hopes  must  here  sign !  what 
gloomy  and  shocking  prospects  must  he  reconcile  himself 
to !  what  violence  must  he  offer  to  his  conscience !  what 
care  must  be  used  to  shut  \yp  all  the  avenues  of  serious 
thought,  and  harden  the  heart  against  the  terrors  of  death 
and  the  su|>reme  tribunal !  How  painful  a  piece  of  pre- 
posterous self-denial  to  reject  the  balm  the  gospel  provides 
to  heal  a  broken  heart  and  a  bleeding  conscience,  and  the 
various  helps  and  advantages  it  furnishes  us  with  to  obtain 
divine  favor  and  everlasting  happiness !  How  hard  to 
work  up  the  mind  to  believe  that  Jesus,  who  spoke,  and 
acted,  and  suffered,  and  did  every  thing  like  an  incarnate 
God,  was  an  impostor,  or  at  best  a  moral  philosopher !  or 
that  the  religion  of  the  Bible,  that  contains  the  most  sub- 
lime and  Godlike  truths,  and  the  most  pure  and  perfect 
precepts  of  piety  and  morality,  is  the  contrivance  of  artful 
and  wicked  men,  or  evil  spirits !  These,  brethren,  are  no 
easy  things.  There  are  many  skeptics  and  smatterers 
in  infidelity,  but  few,  very  few  are  able  to  make  thorough 
work  of  it,  or  commence  stanch  unbelievers.  The  attempt 
itself  is  a  desperate  shift.  A  man  must  have  reduced  him- 
self to  a  very  sad  case  indeed,  before  he  can  have  any  tempta- 
tion to  set  about  it.  He  has,  by  his  willful  wickedness,  set 
Christianity  against  him,  before  he  can  have  any  tempta- 
tion to  set  himself  against  Christianity ;  and  when  he  pro- 
claims war  against  it,  he  finds  it  hard,  yea,  impossible,  to 
make  good  his  cause.  He  may  indeed  i:>ut  on  the  airs  of 
defiance  and  triumph,  and  atfect  to  laugh  at  his  enemy, 
and  at  times  may  be  half  persuaded  he  lias  really  got  the 


HARD   AND    DIFFICULT.  263 

victory.  But  sucli  men  find  the  arms  of  their  own  reason 
often  against  them,  and  their  own  conscience  forms  violent 
insurrections  in  favor  of  religion,  which  they  cannot  en- 
tirely suppress;  so  that  they  are  like  their  father,  what- 
ever they  pretend,  they  believe  and  tremble  too.  Alas, 
that  there  should  be  so  many  unhappy  companions  ii;i  this 
infernal  cause,  in  our  country  and  nation  !  They  find  it 
hard,  even  now,  to  kick  against  the  goad ;  and  O !  how 
much  harder  will  they  find  it  in  the  issue !  Their  resist- 
ance will  prove  ruinous  to  themselves ;  but  neither  they 
nor  the  gates  of  hell  shall  prevail  against  the  cause  they 
oppose.  Christianity  will  live  when  they  are  dead  and 
damned,  according  to  its  sentence. 

2.  Is  it  not  hard  for  men  to  profess  themselves  believers, 
and  assent  to  the  truths  of  Christianity,  and  yet  live  as  if 
they  were  infidels ! 

A  professed  speculative  atheist  or  infidel  is  a  monster 
that  we  do  not  often  meet  with ;  but  the  more  absurd  and 
unaccountable  phenomenon  of  a  practical  atheist,  one  who 
is  orthodox  in  principle,  but  infidel  in  practice,  we  may 
find  wherever  we  turn ;  and  it  would  be  strange  if  none 
such  have  mingled  in  this  assembly  to-day.  To  such  I 
would  particularly  address  myself. 

If  you  believe  Christianity,  or  even  the  religion  of  na- 
ture, you  believe  that  there  is  a  God  of  infinite  excellency, 
the  Maker,  Preserver,  Benefactor,  and  Ruler  of  the  Avorld, 
and  of  you  in  particular ;  and  consequently,  that  you  are 
under  the  strongest  obligations  to  love  him,  and  make  it 
your  great  study  and  endeavor  to  obey  his  will  in  all  in- 
stances. ISTow  is  it  not  strange,  that  while  you  believe 
this,  you  are  able  to  live  as  you  do?  How  can  you  live 
so  thoughtless  of  this  great  and  glorious  God,  who  bears 
such  august  and  endearing  relations  to  you?  How  can 
you  withhold  your  love  from  him,  and  ungratefully  refuse 
obedience  ?  Is  not  this  a  hard  thing  to  you  ?  Does  it  not 
cost  you  some  labor  to  reconcile  your  consciences  to  it  ? 
If  this  be  easy  to  you,  what  champions  in  wickedness  are 
you  ?  how  mighty  to  do  evil  ?  Tliis  would  not  be  easy  to 
the  mightiest  archangel ;  no,  it  is  a  dire  achievement  he 
would  tremble  to  think  of. 

Again ;  if  you  believe  the  Christian  religion,  you  believe 
the  glorious  doctrine  of  redemption  through  Jesus  Christ ; 
you  believe  that  he,  the  Father's-  great  coequal  Son,  as- 


264  THE   WAY   OF  SIN 

suraed  our  nature,  passed  through  the  various  hardships 
of  hfe,  and  died  upon  a  cross  for  jou ;  and  all  this  out  of 
pure  unmerited  love.  And  is  it,  no  difficulty  to  neglect 
him,  to  dishonor  him,  to  slight  his  love  and  disobey  his 
commands?  Does  this  monstrous  wickedness  never  put 
you  to  a  stand?  Degenerate  and  corrupt  as  you  are, 
have*  you  not  such  remains  of  generous  principles  within 
you,  as  that  you  cannot,  without  great  violence  to 
your  own  hearts,  reject  such  a  Saviour?  Does  not  con- 
science often  take  up  arms  in  the  cause  of  its  Lord,  and  do 
you  not  find  it  hard  to  quell  the  insurrection  ?  Alas !  if 
you  find  no  difficulty  in  treating  the  blessed  Jesus  with 
neglect,  it  shows  that  you  are  mighty  giants  in  iniquity. 

Again ;  if  you  believe  the  Christian  religion,  you  must 
believe  that  regeneration,  or  a  thorough  change  of  heart 
and  life,  and  universal  holiness,  are  essentially  necessary 
to  constitute  you  a  real  Christian,  and  prepare  you  for 
everlasting  happiness.  And  while  you  have  this  convic- 
tion, is  it  not  a  hard  thing  for  you  to  be  only  Christians  in 
name,  or  self-condemned  hypocrites,  or  to  rest  contented 
in  any  attainments  short  of  real  religion? 

Finally,  if  you  believe  Christianity,  or  even  natural  reli- 
gion, you  believe  a  future  state  of  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, the  highest  that  human  nature  is  capable  of.  And 
is  it  not  k  hard  thing  to  make  light  of  immortal  happiness 
or  everlasting  misery  ?  Since  you  love  yourselves,  and 
have  a  strong  innate  desire  of  pleasure  and  horror  of  pain, 
how  can  you  reconcile  yourselves  to  the  thought  of  giving 
up  your  portion  in  heaven,  and  being  ingulfed  for  ever  in 
the  infernal  pit  ?  Or  how  can  you  support  your  hope  of 
enjoying  the  one  and  escaping  the  other,  while  you  have 
no  sufficient  evidence  ?  Can  you  venture  on  so  important  an 
interest  upon  an  uncertainty,  or  dare  to  take  jowy  chance, 
without  caring  what  might  be  the  issue  ?  Are  3^ou  capa- 
ble of  such  dreadful  fool-hardiness?  Do  you  not  often 
shrink  back  aghast  from  the  prospect  ?  Does  not  the  hap- 
piness of  heaven  sometimes  so  strongly  attract  you,  that 
you  find  it  hard  to  resist?  And  do  not  the  terrors  of  hell 
start  up  before  you  in  the  way  of  sin,  and  are  you  not 
brought  to  a  stand,  and  ready  to  turn  back  ?  The  pit  of 
hell,  like  a  raging  volcano,  thunders  at  a  distance,  that  you 
may  not  fall  therein  by  surprise.  You  may  perceive  its 
flames,  and  smoke,  and  roariiigs,  in  the  threatenings  of 


HARD   AND    DIFFICULT.  '      265 

God's  Itiw,  while  you  are  jet  at  a  distance  from  it.  And  is 
it  easy  for  you  to  push  on  your  way,  when  thus  warned  ? 
O !  one  would  think  it  would  be  much  more  easy  and  de- 
lightful to  a  creature  endowed  with  reason  and  self-love,  to 
abandon  this  dangerous  road,  and  choose  the  safe  and 
pleasant  way  of  life. 

3.  Is  it  not  hard  for  a  man  to  live  in  a  constant  conflict 
with  his  conscience  ?  This  obstacle  in  the  way  to  hell  has 
appeared  in  all  the  former  particulars ;  but  it  is  so  great, 
and  seemingly  insuperable,  that  it  deserves  to  be  pointed 
out  by  itself.  When  the  sinner  would  continue  his  career 
to  hell,  conscience,  like  the  cherubim  at  the  gates  of  para- 
dise, or  the  angel  in  Balaam's  road,  meets  hi'm  with  its 
flaming  sword,  and  turns  every  way,  to  guard  the  dreadful 
entrance  into  the  chambers  of  death.  When  a  man  goes 
on  in  the  thoughtless  neglect  of  God,  and  the  concerns 
of  eternity,  or  indulges  himself  in  vice  or  irreligion,  con- 
science whispers,  "What  will  be  the  end  of  this  course? 
thou  shalt  yet  suffer  for  this.  Is  it  fit  thou  shouldst  thus 
treat  the  blessed  God,  and  the  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  ?  Is 
it  wise  to  neglect  the  great  work  of  salvation,  and  run  the 
risk  of  eternal  ruin  ?"  I  may  appeal  to  sinners  them- 
selves, whether  they  do  not  often  hear  such  remonstrances 
as  these  from  within?  Indeed,  in  the  hurry  and  bustle 
of  business  and  company,  and  the  headlong  career  of  pleas- 
ure and  amusement,  the  voice  of  conscience  is  not  heard. 
But  you  cannot  always  avoid  retirement ;  sometimes  you 
must  be  by  yourselves,  and  then  you  find  it  hard  to  close 
up  and  guard  all  the  avenues  of  serious  thought.  Then 
conscience  insists  upon  a  fair  hearing,  and  enters  many  a 
solemn  protestation  against  your  conduct,  warns  you  of 
the  consequences,  and  urges  you  to  take  another  course. 
Whatever  airs  of  impious  bravery  you  put  on  in  public, 
and  however  boldly  you  bid  defiance  to  these  things,  yet, 
in  such  pensive  hours,  do  you  not  find  that  you  are  cow- 
ards at  heart  ?  Is  not  conscience  like  to  get  the  victory  ? 
Are  you  not  obliged  to  break  out  into  the  world,  and  rally 
all  its  forces  to  your  assistance,  that  you  may  suppress 
your  conscience?  Now,  how  hard  a  life  is  this!  Th'^ 
life  of  the  sinner  is  a  warfare,  as  well  as  that  of  the  Cliris- 
tian.  Conscience  is  his  enemy,  always  disturbing  him ; 
that  is,  he  himself  is  an  enemy  to  himself  while  he  con- 
tinues  an    enemv   to   God.     Some,  indeed,   by   repeated 

2« 


266  THE   WAY   OF   SIN 

violences,  stun  their  conscience,  and  it  seems  to  lie  still, 
like  a  conquered  enemy.  But  this  is  a  conquest  fatal  to 
the  conqueror.  O !  would  it  not  be  much  easier  to  let  con- 
science have  fair  play,  to  pursue  your  own  happiness,  as  it 
urges  you,  and  leave  the  smooth,  down-hill  road  to  ruin, 
from  which 'it  would  retain  you?  Conscience  urges  yon 
to  your  duty  and  interest  with  many  sharp  goads,  and  will 
you  still  kick  against  them  ?  O !  do  you  not  find  this 
hard?  I  am  sure  it  would  be  very  hard,  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  a  creature  under  the  right  conduct  of  reason 
and  self-love.  And  before  you  can  be  capable  of  perform- 
ing this  dire  exploit  with  ease,  you  must  have  acquired  a 
prodigious^  gigantic  strength  in  sinning. 

4.  Is  it  not  a  hard  piece  of  self-denial  for  you  to  deprive 
yourselves  of  the  exalted  pleasures  of  religion  ?  You  love 
yourselves,  and  you  love  happiness,  and  therefore  one 
would  reasonably  expect  you  would  choose  that  which  will 
afford  you  the  mast  solid,  refined^  and  lasting  happiness, 
and  abandon  whatever  is  inconsistent  with  it.  Now  re- 
.ligion  is  a  source  of  happiness.  Yes ;  that  dull,  melan- 
choly things  religion,,  which  you  think  perhaps  would  put 
an  end  to  your  pleasures,  and  which,  for  that  reason,  you 
have  kept  at  a  distance  from ;  religion,  I  say,  will  afford 
you  a  happiness  more  pure^  more  noble^  and  more  durable 
than  all  the  world  can  give.  Eeligion  not  only  proposes 
future  happiness  beyond  the  comprehension  of  thought, 
but  will  afibrd  you  present  happiness  beyond  whateyer  you 
have  known  while  strangers  to  it.  The  pleasures  of  a 
peaceful  approving  conscience,,  of  communion  with  God^ 
the  supreme  good,,  of  the  most  noble  dispositions  and  most 
delightful  contemplations^,  these  are  the  pleasures  of  re- 
ligion. Besides,  religion  has  infinitely  the  advantage  of 
other  things  as  to  futurity.  Those  pleasures  which  are  in- 
consistent with  it  end  in  shocking  prospects,,  as  well  as  pale 
reviews,  But  religion  opens  the  brightest  prospects :  pros- 
pects of  everlasting  salvation  and  happiness;,  prospects 
that  brighten  the  gloomy  shades  of  death,,  and  the  awful 
world  beyond,  and  run  out  infinitely  beyond  our  ken 
through  a  vast  eternal  duration.  Such,  my  brethren,,  is 
religion,  the  highest,  the  most  substantial,  and  the  most 
lasting  happiness  of  man.  And  is  it  not  a  painful  piece  of 
self-denial  to  you,  to  give  wp  alUthi^  happiness,  whem 
jiotlnng  is  required  to  purchase  it  but  only  jouy  choice  of 


HARD   AND   DIFFICULT.  -  26T 

it  ?  Is  not  this  doing  violence  to  the  innate  principle  of 
self-love  and  desire  of  happiness  ?  Can  you  be  so  stupid, 
as  to  imagine  that  the  world,  or  sin,  or  any  thing  tiiat  can 
come  in  competition  with  religion,  can  be  of  equal  or  com- 
parable advantage  to  you  ?  Sure  your  own  reason  must 
give  in  its  verdict  in  favor  of  religion.  And  is  it  not  a 
hard  thing  for  you  to  act  against  your  own  reason,  against 
your  own  interest,  your  highest,  your  immortal  interest, 
and  against  your  own  innate  desire  of  happiness?  Is  it 
not  hard  that  whilst  others  around  you,  in  the  use  of  the 
very  means  which  you  enjoy,  are  made  meet  for  the  in- 
heritance of  the  saints  in  light,  and  are  animated  to  endure 
the  calamities  of  life,  and  encounter  the  terrors  of  death, 
by  the  prospect  of  everlasting  glory  :  I  say,  is  it  not  hard 
that  you  should  be  destitute  of  all  these  transporting  pros- 
pects, and  have  nothing  but  a  fearful  expectation  of  wrath 
and  fiery  indignation,  or  at  best  a  vain  self-flattering  hope, 
which  will  issue  in  the  more  confounding  disappoint- 
ment ? 

And  now,  sinners,  will  you,  with  infernal  bravery, 
break  through  all  these  obstacles,  and  force  a  passage  into 
the  flames  below?  Or  will  yon  not  give  over  the  pre- 
posterous struggle  to  ruin  yourselves,  and  suffer  your- 
selves to  be  saved?  O  !  let  me  arrest  you  in  your  dan- 
gerous career,  as  the  voice  which  pronounced  my  text  did 
St.  Paul ;  and  let  me  prevail  upon  you  for  the  future  to 
choose  the  highway  of  life,  and  take  that  course  to  which 
God,  conscience,  duty,  and  interest  urge  you.  In  that,  in- 
deed, you  will  meet  with  difiiculties ;  it  is  a  narrow  and 
'  rugged  road ;  and  it  will  require  hard  striving  to  make  a 
progress  in  it.  But  then  the  difficulties  you  have  here  to 
surmount  are  in  the  road  to  happiness ;  but  those  in  the 
other  are  in  the  road  to  destruction,  and  your  striving  to 
surmount  them  is  but  striving  to  destroy  yourselves  for 
ever.  It  may  be  worth  your  while  to  labor  and  conflict 
hard  to  be  saved ;  but  is  it  worth  while  to  take  so  much 
pains,  and  strive  so  hard  to  be  damned  ?  Besides,  the  dif- 
ficulties in  the  heavenly  road  result  from  the  weak,  disor- 
dered, and  wicked  state  of  human  nature,  as  the  difficulty 
of  animal  action  and  enjoyment  proceeds  from  sickness  of 
body ;  and  consequently,  every  endeavor  to  surmount 
these  difficulties  tends  to  heal,  to  rectify,  to  strengthen  and 
ennoble  our  nature,  and  advance   it  to  perfection.     But 


268  THE   CHARACTERS   OP 

the  difficulties  in  tlic  way  to  hell  proceed  from  the  contra- 
riety of  that  course  to  the  best  principles  of  human  nature, 
and  to  tlie  most  strong  and  rational  obligations ;  and  con- 
sequently, the  more  we  struggle  with  these  difficulties,  the 
more  we  labor  to  suppress  and  root  out  the  remains  of 
good  principles,  and  break  the  most  inviolable  obligations 
to  God  and  ourselves.  The  easier  it  is  for  us  to  sin,  the 
more  base  and  corrupt  we  are :  just  as  the  more  rotten  a 
limb  is,  the  easier  for  it  to  drop  off;  the  more  disordered 
and  stupefied  the  body  is,  the  more  easy  to  die.  To  meet 
with  no  obstacle  in  the  way  to  hell,  but  to  run  on  without 
restraint,  is  terrible  indeed  ;  it  shows  a  man  abandoned  of 
God,  and  ripe  for  destruction. 

Upon  the  whole,  you  see,  that  though  there  be  difficul- 
ties on  both  sides,  yet  the  way  to  heaven  has  infinitely  the 
advantage ;  and  therefore  let  me  again  urge  you  to  choose 
it;  you  have  walked  long  enough  at  variance  with  God, 
with  your  own  conscience,  with  your  own  interest  and 
duty ;  come  now  be  reconciled  ;  make  these  your  antago- 
nists no  longer.  While  you  persist  in  tliis  opposition,  you 
do  but  kick  against  the  pricks ;  that  is,  you  make  a  resist- 
ance injurious  to  yourselves.  For  the  future  declare 
against  sin,  Satan,  and  all  their  confederates,  and  ere  long 
ye  shall  be  made  more  than  conquerors ;  and  for  your  en- 
couragement remember,  He  that  overcometh  shall  inherit  all 
things:  and  I luill  he  his  Ood,  and  he  shall  he  my  son,  saith 
the  Lord  God  Almighty. 


■»-»-»^ 


XXVI. 

THE  CHARACTERS  OF  THE  WHOLE  AND  SICK,  IN  A  SPIRITUAL 
SENSE,  CONSIDERED  AND  CONTRASTED. 

•'  But  when  Jesus  heard  that,  he  said  unto  them,  They  that  be  wliole  need 
not  a  physician,  but  they  that  are  sick." — Matt.  ix.  12. 

There  is  no  article  of  faith  more  certain  than  that  Je- 
sus Christ  is  an  all-sufficient  and  most  willing  Saviour, 
ahle  to  save  to  the  utmost  all  that  come  unto  God  throngh  him, 
and  tfio.^p  \rho  come   unto  Jn'm  he  ivill  in  no  wise  cast  out. 


THE    WHOLE   AND   SICK,    ETC.  269 


They  that  intrust  their  souls  into  his  hands  he  keeps,  and 
none  of  them  is  lost.  It  is  certain  that  all  the  guilty  sons 
of  Adam  stand  in  the  most  absolute  need  of  him  ;  in  vain  do 
they  seek  for  salvation  in  any  other.  Without  him,  they  are 
undone  for  ever ;  and  without  him,  their  very  existence 
becomes  a  curse,  and  their  immortality  but  the  duration 
of  their  misery.  The  disease  of  sin  has  so  deeply  infected 
their  souls,  that  none  but  this  divine  Physician  can  heal 
them. 

Since  this  is  the  case,  who  would  not  expect  that  Jesus 
would  be  universally  the  darling  of  mankind  ?  Who  would 
not  expect  that  as  many  as  are  wounded,  and  just  perish- 
ing of  their  wounds,  would  all  earnestly  apply  to  this  Phy- 
sician, and  seek  relief  from  him  upon  any  terms?  Must 
not  all  love  and  desire  him,  since  all  need  him  so  extreme- 
ly, and  since  he  is  so  completely  qualified  to  be  their 
deliverer.  But,  alas !  notwithstanding  all  such  favorable 
presumptions  from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  it  is  a  most 
notorious  fact,  that  this  divine  Physician  is  but  little 
regarded  by  our  dying  world.  This  all-sufficient  and 
willing  Saviour  is  generally  neglected  by  perishing  sinners. 
There  are  thousands  among  us  that  have  no  affectionate 
thoughts  of  him  ;  no  eager  longings  after  him  ;  they  exert 
no  vigorous  endeavors  to  obtain  an  interest  in  him,  nor 
are  they  tenderly  solicitous  about  it.  They  indeed  profess 
his  religion,  and  call  themselves  Christians,  after  his  name ; 
they  pay  him  the  compliment  of  a  bended  knee,  and  now 
and  then  perform  the  external  duties  of  religion,  and  thus 
have  high  hopes  they  shall  be  saved  through  him ;  but 
as  to  their  hearts  and  affections,  he  has  no  share  there. 

IS'ow  whence  is  this  strange  and  shocking  phenomenon 
in  the  rational  world?  Whence  is  it  that  the  dying  are 
careless  about  a  physician  ?  That  a  Deliverer  is  neglected 
by  those  that  are  perishing  ?  The  true  reason  we  may  find 
in  my  text,  TJiey  that  are  whole  need  not  a  jphysician,  hut 
they  that  are  sick  ;  that  is,  "they  who  imagine  themselves 
well,  however  disordered  they  are  in  reality,  do  not  feel 
their  need  of  a  physician,  and  therefore  will  not  apply  to 
him ;  but  they  who  feel  themselves  sick,  will  eagerly  apply 
to  him,  and  put  themselves  under  his  care." 

'This  is  the  answer  of  Christ  to  the  proud  caviling  Phari- 
sees, who  censured  his  free  conversation  with  publicans 
and  sinners,  at  an  entertainment  which  Matthew  had  pre- 


270  -     THE   CHARACTERS   OF 

pared  for  him.  The  publicans  were  a  sort  of  custom-house 
officers  among  the  Jews,  appointed  by  the  Romans,  whose 
tributaries  they  then  were,  to  collect  the  levies  or  duties 
imposed  by  government.  They  were  generally  persons  of 
bad  morals,  and  particularly  given  to  rapine  and  extortion 
in  raising  the  taxes.  The  publicans,  therefore,  were  objects 
of  general  contempt  and  abhorrence,  as  an  abandoned  sort 
of  men ;  and  the  Jews,  particularly  the  rigid  and  haughty 
Pharisees,  held  no  conversation  with  them,  but  kept  them 
at  a  distance,  as  though  they  had  been  excommunicated. 

The  condescending  Jesus,  who  came  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  luas  lost,  did  not  conduct  himself  towards  these 
poor  outcasts  upon  the  rigid  principles  of  the  Pharisees. 
They  held  them  in  such  contempt,  that  they  did  not  labor 
to  instruct  and  reform  them.  But  Jesus  preached  to  them, 
conversed  with  them  freely,  and  used  the  most  condescend- 
ing, affable,  and  ingratiating  measures  to  reform  them,  and 
called  some  of  them  to  the  honor  of  being  his  .disciples ; 
of  this  number  was  Matthew,  the  author  of  this  history. 
O!  the  condescension,  the  freeness,  the  efficacy  of  the 
grace  of  Christ !  it  can  make  a  publican  an  apostle !  an 
abhorred  outcast  the  favorite  of  Heaven  and  the  companion 
of  angels !  What  abundant  encouragement  does  this  give 
to  the  most  abandoned  sinner  among  you  to  turn  unto  the 
Lord!  Let  publicans  and  sinners  despair  of  mercy  and 
salvation  if  they  continue  in  their  present  condition ;  but 
if  they  arise  and  follow  Jesus  at  his  call,  and  become  his 
humble,  teachable  disciples,  they  need  not  despair;  nay, 
they  may  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God,  and  be 
assured  they  shall  be  admitted  into  the  kingdom  of  God, 
when  the  self-righteous  are  shut  out. 

When  Matthew  had  embraced  the  call,  he  made  a  feast 
for  his  new  Master,  that  he  might  show  his  respect  and 
gratitude  to  him,  and  that  he  might  let  his  brother  publi- 
cans and  old  companions  have  an  opportunity'  of  convers- 
ing with  him,  and  receive  his  instructions.  How  natural 
it  is  for  a  sinner,  just  brought  to  love  Jesus,  to  use  means 
to  allure  others  to  him,  especially  his  former  companions ! 
Having  seen  his  own  guilt  and  danger,  he  is  deeply  affected 
with  theirs,  and  would  willingly  lead  them  to  that  Saviour 
who  has  given  him  so  gracious  a  reception.  The  blessed 
Jesus,  who  was  always  ready  to  embrace  every  opportunity 
of  doing  good,  whatever  popular  odium  it  might  expose 


THE   WHOLE   AND   SICK,    ETC,  271 

liim  to,  cheerfully  complies  with  Matthew's  invitation,  and 
mingles  with  a  crowd  of  publicans  at  his  table.  The  Phari- 
sees now  thought  they  had  a  good  handle  to  raise  popular 
clamor  against  Christ,  and  therefore  cavil  at  these  freedoms, 
as  though  they  had  been  profane,  and  inconsistent  with  the 
character  of  the  Messiah,  or  even  of  a  prophet.  If  he 
claimed  this  character,  they  thought  it  much  more  becom- 
ing him  to  keep  company  Avith  them  than  with  profligate 
publicans.  Hence,  to  stumble  and  perplex  his  disciples, 
they  come  to  them,  and  ask,  Why  eateth  your  Master  with 
pMicaiis  and  sinners  t  Jesus  answers  them,  and  takes 
upon  himself  his  own  defence.  ■  The  ivhole,  says  he,  have 
no  need  of  a  physician,  but  they  that  are  sick.  He  here 
answers  the  Pharisees  upon  their  own  principles.  As  if 
he  had  said,  "  I  come  into  the  world  under  the  character 
of  a  physician  for  sick  souls.  Such,  you  will  grant,  these 
despised  publicans  are ;  and  therefore  you  must  also  grant 
that  these  are  the  persons  I  have  to  deal  with,  and  these 
are  most  likely  to  make  application  to  me.  But  as  for 
yourselves,  you  think  you  are  righteous ;  you  think  you 
are  not  so  far  gone  with  the  disease  of  sin,  as  to  need  a 
physician  sent  down  from  heaven  to  heal  you." 

To  give  a  fuller  view  of  this  text,  and  to  adapt  it  to 
practical  purposes,  1  intend  to  descrit3e  the  characters  of 
those  that  are  whole  and  of  those  that  are  sick,  in  the 
senses  here  intended.  There  are  none  of  the  sons  of  men 
who  are  really  whole.  Their  souls  are  all  diseased ;  for  all 
have  sinned,  and  there  is  none  righteous,  no,  not  one.  And' 
perhaps  there  are  none  upon  earth  so  proud,  and  so  igno- 
rant of  themselves,  as  to  affirm  in  so  many  words  that  they 
are  whole,  that  is,  "  perfectly  righteous."  Therefore,  by 
the  whole,  cannot  be  meant  either  those  who  are  really  free 
from  all  sin,  or  those  who  imagine  themselves  entirely  free 
from  it.  It  does  not  appear  that  even  the  proud  Pharisees 
were  capable  of  flattering  themselves  so  far.  But  by  the 
whole  are  meant  those  who  are  indeed  guilty,  depraved 
sinners,  and  who  are  ready  to  make  a  superficial  confession 
in  words  that  they  are  sinners,  but  continue  secure  and 
impenitent,  insensible  of  their  guilt,  their  corruption,  their 
danger,  and  their  need  of  a  Saviour;  that  is,  those  who 
are  really  sick,  and  dangerously  ill,  and  yet  are  as  easy,  as 
unapprehensive  of  danger,  as  careless  about  ap])lying  to 
the  physician,  as  if  nothing  ailed  them.     The  disease  is  of 


272  THE   CHARACTERS   OF 

a  lethargic  nature,  and  stupefies  the  unhappy  creatures,  so 
that  they  are  not  sensible  of  it.  It  renders  them  delirious, 
so  that  they  think  themselves  well  when  the  symptoms  of 
death  are  strong  upon  them.  What  multitudes  of  such 
may  we  see  in  the  world !  The  Word  of  God  pronounces 
them  dangerously  ill ;  their  friends  may  see  the  most 
deadly  symptoms  upon  them ;  but  alas !  they  are  stupidly 
insensible  of  their  own  case.  Jesus,  the  divine  physician, 
warns  them  of  their  danger,  offers  them  his  help,  and  pre- 
scribes to  them  the  infallible  means  of  recovery ;  but  they 
disregard  his  warnings,  neglect  his  gracious  offer,  and 
refuse  to  submit  to  his  prescriptions.  This  is  the  general 
character  of  those  that  are  whole,  in  the  sense  of  my  text. 

By  the  sick  are  meant  those  who,  like  the  former,  are 
really  guilty,  corrupt  sinners,  in  extreme  need  of  a  Saviour, 
and  who  readily  confess  they  are  such  ;  but  here  lies  the 
difference,  they  are  not  only  such  in  reality,  but  they  are 
deeply  sensible  of  it,  and  they  are  tenderly  affected  with 
their  case ;  their  temper  and  conduct,  their  thoughts  of 
themselves  and  of  Jesus  Christ,  their  designs  and  endeav- 
ors are  such  as  are  natural  to  a  soul  sensibly  sick  of  sin, 
and  such  as  bear  a  resemblance  to  those  of  a  person  sick 
in  body,  and  using  all  means  for  a  recovery.  This  is  the 
general  character  of  the  sick,  in  the  sense  of  ray  text ;  but 
it  is  necessary  I  should  descend  to  particulars.  The  par- 
ticular characters  of  the  whole  and  sick,  in  contrast,  are 
such  as  these : 

1.  He  that  is  whole  has  never  had  a  clear  affectinc^  sisrht 
and  sense  of  sin ;  but  he  that  is  sick  is  fully  convicted,  and 
deeply  sensible  of  it.  The  one  has  only  a  general,  super- 
ficial, unaffecting  conviction,  that  he  is  a  sinner ;  that  he 
has  not  been  so  good  as  he  should  have  been ;  that  his 
heart  is  somewhat  disordered,  and  especially  that  he  has 
been  guilty  of  sundry  bad  actions.  Sin  appears  to  him  a 
small  evil,  and  he  has  a  thousand  excuses  to  make  for  it. 
Hence  he  is  as  easy,  as  careless,  as  presumptuous  in  his 
hopes,  as  if  he  believed  he  did  not  really  deserve  pun- 
ishment from  a  righteous  God,  and  therefore  was  in  no 
danger.  Thus,  like  a  man  in  health,  he  is  unconcerned,  and 
neither  apprehends  himself  sick,  nor  uses  the  least  means 
for  his  recovery. 

But  is  it  so  Avith  a  poor,  sick  sinner?  O,  no!  he  sees, 
he  feels,  that  his  Jiead  is  side,  and  Im  whole  heart  faird;  he 


THE   WHOLE   AVD    SICK,    ETC.  273 

feels  that  siri  has  enfeebled  all  his  powers,  and  that  he  is 
no  more  able  to  exert  them  in  religious  endeavors,  than  a 
sick  man  is  to  employ  himself  in  active  life.  O !  into 
what  a  consternation  is  he  struck  when  awakened  out  of 
his  lethargic  security,  and  his  eyes  are  opened  to  see  him- 
self in  a  just  light!  He  had  flattered  himself  that  he  had 
a  good  constitution  of  soul,  and  that  little  or  nothing  ailed 
him  ;  but  now,  he  is  surprised  to  see  the  strong  symptoms 
of  spiritual  death  upon  him. 

Suppose  some  of  you,  who  have  come  here  to-day  vig- 
orous and  healthy,  should  suddenly  discover  the  spots  of 
a  plague  broken  out  all  over  you,  how  would  it  strike  you 
with  surprise  and  horror !  Such  is  the  surprise  and  horror 
of  the  awakened  sinner;  thus  he  is  alarmed  and  amazed. 
So  clear  are  his  views  of  his  entire  and  universal  depravity 
and  imminent  danger,  that  he  is  utterly  astonished  he  was 
so  stupid  as  never  to  discover  it  before.  Now,  also,  he  has 
a  deep  sense  of  the  evil  of  sin :  he  not  only  sees  himself 
universally  disordered,  but  he  sees,  he  feels  the  disorder  to 
be  deadly ;  sin  now  appears  to  him  the  greatest  evil  upon 
earth,  or  even  in  hell.  O !  how  worthy  of  the  severest 
vengeance  from  a  righteous  God !  how  contrary  to  the 
divine  purity  ;  how  base,  how  ungrateful  a  violation  of  the 
most  strono;  and  endearina;  obli orations  !  how  destructive  to 
the  soul !  During  the  progress  of  the  Christian  life,  he 
feels  himself  recovering  a  little,  though  very  slowly,  while 
he  follows  the  prescriptions  of  his  divine  Physician,  and 
receives  healing  influences  from  him. 

2.  They  that  are  whole  are  generally  easy  and  secure, 
and  unapprehensive  of  danger ;  but  the  sick  soul  is  alarmed 
and  anxious,  and  cannot  be  easy  till  it  perceives  some  ap- 
pearances of  recovery.  He  that  is  whole  is  benumbed  with 
a  stupid  insensibility;  but  he  that  is  sick  is  in  pain  from 
the  disease  of  sin,  which  he  sensibly  feels.  The  one  can 
walk  about  merry  and  thoughtless,  with  a  hard,  depraved 
heart  within  him ;  the  other  is  perpetually  uneasy,  and, 
like  a  sick  man,  he  has  no  taste  for  any  thing  while  he  feels 
such  a  heart  within  him.  If  the  one  is  anxious,  it  is  with 
some  worldly  care  ;  if  the  other  is  anxious,  it  is  chiefly  for 
the  recovery  of  his  dying  soul.  The  one  can  give  himself 
up  to  business,  or  pleasure,  or  idleness,  as  a  man  in  health, 
and  at  ease ;  the  other  is  apprehensive  that  his  soul  is  in 
great  danger,  and,  like  a  sick  man,  gives  up  his  eager  pur- 


27-1  THE    CHARACTERS   OF 

suits,  till  be  sees  whetlier  lie  is  likely  to  recover.  He  is 
alarmed  with  the  deadly  consequences  of  sin,  as  it  exposes 
him  to  the  wrath  of  God,  the  loss  of  heaven,  and  all  the 
miseries  of  the  infernal  world.  But  this  is  not  all  that 
distresses  him ;  he  considers  sin,  in  itself,  as  a  loathsome 
disease,  and  is  pained  with  its  present  effects  upon  him. 
How  strongly  does  St.  Paul  represent  the  case,  when  he 
cries  out,  0  !  wretched  man  that  I  a'm!  ivho  shall  deliver  me 
from  the  body  of  this  death? — Rom.  vii.  24.  The  image 
seems  to  be  that  of  a  living  man  walking  about  with  a 
rotten,  nauseous  carcass  tied  fast  to  him,  which  he  cannot, 
with  all  his  efforts,  cast  off;  but  it  lies  heavy  upon  him 
wherever  he  goes.  This  is  the  character  of  the  soul  sick 
of  sin.  But  he  that  is  whole  hath  little  or  no  uneasiness 
upon  this  account.  If  he  is  alarmed  at  all,  it  is  Avith  the 
consequence  of  sin  ;  his  slavish  soul  fears  nothing  but  the 
punishment.  As  for  the  disease  itself,  it  is  so  far  from 
giving  him  uneasiness,  that  he  is  in  love  with  it.  It  affords 
him  sensations  of  pleasure,  rather  than  of  j^ain,  and  he 
rather  dreads  a  recovery,  than  the  continuance  of  the  dis- 
order. Sin  has  intoxicated  him  to  such  a  decree,  that 
holiness,  which  is  the  health  of  the  soul,  is  disagreeable 
to  him,  and  he  would  rather  continue  languishing  than 
recover. 

3.  They  that  are  whole  are  unwilling  to  apply  to  a  phy- 
sician, or  to  follow  his  prescriptions ;  but  to  the  sick  a 
physician  is  most  welcome,  and  they  will  submit  to  his 
directions,  however  self-denying  and  mortifying.  This  is 
the  point  my  text  has  particularly  in  view,  and  therefore 
we  must  take  particular  notice  of  it. 

They  that  are  in  health  have  no  regard  to  a  ph^^sician, 
as  such ;  they  neither  send  for  him  nor  will  they  accept  of 
his  help,  offered  gratis ;  they  look  upon  the  best  of  medi- 
cines with  neglect,  as  of  no  use  or  importance  to  them ; 
the  prescriptions  proper  to  the  sick  they  hear  with  indif- 
ference, as  not  being  concerned.  Thus  it  is  with  thousands, 
who  imagine  themselves  whole  in  spirit.  The  Lord  Jesus 
exhibits  himself  to  the  sons  of  men  under  the  character 
of  a  physician ;  the  gospel  makes  a  free  offer  of  his  assist- 
ance to  all  sick  souls  that  will  freely  accept  it.  And  what 
reception  does  he  generally  meet  with?  Why,  multitudes 
neglect  him  as  though  they  had  no  need  of  him.  They 
may  indeed  pay  him  the  compliment  of  professing  his 


THE   WHOLE   AND   SICK,    ETC.  (§^ 

religion,  because  it  happened  to  be  the  religion  of  their 
fathers  and  their  country,  but  thej  have  no  eager  desires 
after  him ;  they  do  not  invite  him  with  the  most  affection- 
ate entreaties  to  undertake  their  case  ;  they  do  not  beg  and 
cry  for  relief  from  him,  like  blind  Bartimeus :  Jesus,  thou 
Son  of  David,  have  7)%ercy  on  us.  And  the  reason  is, 
they  are  whole  in  their  own  apprehensions;  or,  if  they 
feel  some  qualms  of  conscience,  some  fits  of  painful  remorse, 
they  soon  heal  their  own  hurt  slightly,  crying,  Peace,  'peace, 
lohen  there  is  no  peace.  They  have  a  medicine  of  their  own, 
prayers,  tears,  repentance,  and  religious  endeavors,  and 
with  this  they  hope  to  heal  themselves.  Thus  Jesus  is 
neglected ;  they  give  him  the  name  of  a  Saviour ;  but  in 
reahty  they  look  to  themselves  for  a  cure.  How  is  the 
gospel  that  makes  the  offer  of  relief  from  this  heavenly 
Physician  generall}^  received  in  the  world  ?  Alas !  it  is 
neglected,  as  the  offer  of  superfluous  help.  It  is  heard  with 
that  indifference  with  which  men  in  health  attend  to  the 
prescriptions  of  a  physician  to  the  sick,  in  which  they  have 
no  immediate  concern.  Brethren,  is  this  neglected  gospel 
the  only  effectual  means  for  healing  your  dying  souls  ? 
Then  what  means  the  stupidity  and  inattention  with  which 
it  is  heard  ?  What  means  the  general  neglect  with  which 
it  is  treated?  O !  how  affecting  is  it  to  see  a  dying  world 
rejecting  the  only  restorative  that  can  heal  their  disease 
and  preserve  their  lives !  But  alas !  thus  it  is  all  around  us. 
Again ;  Jesus  prescribes  to  the  sons  of  men  the  only 
means  of  their  recovery.  -Particularly  he  enjoins  them  no 
more  to  drink  poison ;  that  is,  no  more  to  indulge  them- 
selves in  sin,  which  is,  in  its  own  nature,  the  most  deadly 
poison  to  the  soul.  And  what  can  be  more  reasonable 
than  this  ?  Yet  this  is  what  a  stupid  world  principally 
objects  against,  and  multitudes  rather  die  than  submit  to 
it.  A  disordered,  empoisoned  constitution  of  soul  is  to  them 
the  most  agreeable.  This  divine  Physician  likewise  requires 
them  to  use  the  means  of  grace  instituted  in  the  gospel ; 
but  how  few  observe  them  in  earnest !  What  a  general 
neglect  of  the  means  of  grace  prevails  in  our  country,  or 
what  a  careless  attendance  upon  them !  which  is  equally 
pernicious.  Christ  always  enjoins  them  to  submit  to  him  as 
their  physician,  to  flatter  themselves  no  longer  that  they  can 
heal  themselves  by  means  within  their  own  power,  but  to 
apply  his  blood  as  the  only  healing  balm,  to  their  wounded 


276  THE   CHARACTEKS    OF 

souls.  But,  alas !  they  disregard  this  grand  prescription ; 
they  will  not  submit  to  him,  but,  like  an  obstinate  patient, 
will  have  their  own  way,  though  eternal  death  should  be 
the  consequence. 

But  this  is  not  the  case  of  the  sinner  spiritually  sick ; 
he  will  do  any  thing,  he  will  submit  to  any  thing,  if  it 
may  but  save  him  from  the  mortal  disease  of  sin.  How 
ardently  does  he  long  after  Jesus  !  With  what  cheerful- 
ness does  he  put  himself  under  his  care !  With  what  joy 
and  gratitude  does  he  hear  the  offer  of  free  salvation  in 
the  gospel !  and  how  dear  is  the  gospel  to  his  heart  on  thia 
account !  With  what  eager,  wishful  eyes  does  he  look  upon 
his  Physician !  How  does  he  delight  to  feel  himself  under 
the  operation  of  his  hand !  With  what  anxiety  does  he 
observe  the  symptoms,  and  inquire  whether  he  is  upon  the 
recovery  or  not !  and  0 !  with  what  pleasure  does  he  dis- 
cover the  signs  of  returning  health !  to  feel  a  little  eager 
appetite  for  spiritual  food !  to  feel  a  little  spiritual  life  in 
religious  exercises !  to  feel  himself  able  to  run  in  the  way 
of  Grod's  commandments!  to  feel  the  principles  of  sin 
weakened  within  him  1  How  sweet  is  this !  Let  those 
that  think  their  souls  healthy  and  vigorous,  boast  of  their 
strength,  and  what  mighty  things  they  can  do  in  religion ; 
as  for  him  he  feels  his  weakness ;  he  feels  he  can  do  noth- 
ing aright,  but  just  as  he  receives  daily  strength  from  Christ. 
In  short,  the  sick  sinner  is  a  tender,  delicate,  frail  creature, 
entirely  subject  to  the  prescriptions  of  Christ,  and  every 
day  taking  means  from  him ;  anxious  for  his  recovery  and 
willing  to  submit  to  any  thing  that  may  promote  it.  This 
is  the  man,  in  our  Christ-despising  world,  that  gives  Jesus 
a  most  willing  and  welcome  reception,  and  embraces  his 
gospel,  as  containing  all  his  salvation  and  all  his  desire. 
O!  that  there  were  many  such  in  our  world!  for  this  man 
is  in  a  hopeful  way  of  recovery.  This  world  is  a  vast 
hospital,  full  of  dying  souls ;  Jesus  descends  from  heaven 
and  enters  among  them,  offering  them  health  and  eternal 
life,  if  they  will  but  submit  to  his  directions,  which  are  as 
easy  as  possible.  Repentance,  indeed,  and  some  other  bit- 
ter ingredients,  are  included  in  a  religion  for  sinners ;  and 
how  can  it  be  otherwise,  since  these  are  necessary  for  their 
recovery  in  the  very  nature  of  things  ?  But.  after  all,  the 
generality  die  in  their  sins,  amidst  the  full  means  of  their 
recovery ;  and  the  gi'oat  reason  is,  that  they  will  not  bo 


THE   WHOLE   AND   SICK,    ETC.  277 

convinced  of  their  danger,  nor  be  persuaded  to  apply  to 
the  Physician*  0  !  how  tragical  and  affecting  a  case  this ! 
and  what  may  render  it  the  more  so  to  us  is,  that  it  is  the 
case  of  some  of  us.  Yes,  my  brethren,  though  I  am  unwill- 
ing to  harbor  one  hard  thought  of  any  of  you,  yet  I  cannot 
avoid  concluding  that  there  are  some,  I  am  afraid  many 
souls,  in  this  assembly,  who  are  not  sensible  of  their  dan- 
gerous disease,  and  their  need  of  Christ  as  a  physician,  and 
therefore  are  in  danger  of  perishing  without  him.  Sin, 
like  a  strong  dose  of  opium,  has  stupefied  you,  and  you 
feel  easy  and  whole-hearted,  as  if  nothing  ailed  you,  when 
the  symptoms  of  death  are  strong  upon  you.  We  can 
weep  and  lament  over  the  sick-bed  of  a  dying  friend,  and 
we  even  drop  our  tears  after  him  into  a  dying  grave ;  but 
shall  we  drop  no  tears  this  day  over  dying  souls,  that  are 
so  numerous  among  us.  What  renders  the  case  more 
affecting  is,  that  they  perish  by  their  own  willful  obstinacy, 
under  the  hands  of  an  all-healing  Physician :  0  that  my 
head  were  waters ;  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain  of  tears,  that  I 
might  weep  day  and  night  over  the  slain  of  the  daughters  of 
Tuy  people !  Ye  secure  and  whole-hearted  sinners,  must  it 
not  shock  you  to  think  that  Jesus  Christ,  the  only  physi- 
cian, gives  you  up  ?  You  see,  in  my  text,  he  looks  upon 
you  as  persons  that  he  has  no  business  with.  He  had 
rather  converse  with  publicans  and  sinners  than  with  you, 
as  having  more  hopes  of  success  among  them.  Let  publi- 
cans and  sinners  be  encouraged  to  apply  to  Jesus.  Come, 
ye  profligates,  drunkards,  swearers,  come  sinners  of  the 
most  abandoned  character,  apply  to  this  Physician.  He  is 
willing  to  heal  you.  He  offers  you  healing.  Wilt  thou  he 
made  ivholef  is  his  question  to  you  this  day.  He  is  also 
perfectly  able,  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost,  however  in- 
veterate your  disease  may  be.  If  the  children  of  the  king- 
dom shut  themselves  out ;  if  self-righteous  Pharisees  reject 
this  Physician,  and  die  in  their  sins,  do  you  come  in ;  put 
yourselves  under  his  care,  submit  to  his  prescriptions,  and 
you  shall  yet  live,  and  be  restored  to  perfect  health,  and 
eternal  life.  Rugged  as  you  are,  you  are  very  proper  ma- 
terials for  the  temple  of  God.  Therefore  this  day  give 
yourselves  up  to  him  as  his  willing  patients.  Cry  to  him 
to  undertake  your  case.  Heal  me,  0  Lord,  and  I  shall  he 
healed.  Submit  to  his  prescriptions,  and  follow  his  direc- 
tions, and  you  shall  live  for  ever. 

24 


278  THE   CHARACTERS   OF 

I  sliall  conclude  my  subject  by  giving  answer  from  ifc 
to  some  questions  that  may  arise  in  your  minds  on  this 
occasion. 

What  is  the  reason  that  the  world  lies  in  such  a  dead 
security  around  us  ?  Whence  is  it  there  is  so  much  sin  in 
the  world,  and  so  little  fear  of  punishment  ?  Whence  is  it 
that  men  will  entertain  such  hopes  of  heaven  upon  such 
slight  evidences,  or,  rather,  with  the  full  evidence  of  the 
word  of  God  against  them?  Alas!  the  reason  is,  they 
are  whole  in  their  own  imagination ;  they  think  themselves 
well,  and  therefore  apprehend  no  danger,  but  lie  in  a  dead, 
inactive  sleep.  What  is  the  reason  wh}^  so  many  neglect 
the  means  of  grace  in  public  and  private  ?  Whence  is  it 
there  are  so  many  prayerless  families  and  prayerless  closets 
among  us  ?  Why  is  the  Bible  thrown  by,  in  some  families, 
as  a  piece  of  useless  lumber?  Why  is  the  house  of  God 
so  thinly  frequented  in  many  places,  and  the  table  of  the 
Lord  almost  deserted  ?  Why  is  Christian  conversation  so 
unfashionable  ?  and  why  do  we  hear  so  few  inquiries  from 
sinners,  what  they  shall  do  to  be  saved?  The  reason  is, 
they  imagine  themselves  well ;  they  are  whole-hearted ; 
and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder  they  neglect  the  means  of 
recovery ;  they  think  they  have  no  more  to  do  wath  them 
than  persons  in  health  with  physic.  The  only  method  to 
bring  them  to  use  those  means  in  earnest  is  to  make  them 
sensibleof  their  dangerous  disease.  And  0  that  ministers 
may  use  all  proper  means  with  them  for  this  end,  and 
that  divine  grace  may  render  them  effectual.  What  is  the 
reason  that  the  means  of  grace  are  attended  upon  by  others 
with  so  much  formality  and  indiflPerence  ?  Whence  is  it 
there  are  so  many  lukewarm,  spiritless  prayers,  and  solemn 
mockeries  of  God  ?  so  many  wandering  eyes  and  wandering 
hearts  in  the  heavenly  exercise  of  praise,  and  in  hearing 
the  most  solenm  and  affecting  truths  ?  Whence  is  it  that  all 
the  religion  of  many  is  nothing  but  a  dull  round  of  insipid, 
lifeless  formalities  !  Alas!  the  same  reason  returns:  they 
are  whole  in  their  own  conceit.  And  how  can  they,  while 
they  flatter  themselves  with  this  imagination,  use  those 
means  in  earnest,  which  are  intended  for  the  recovery  of 
the  sick  ? 

Would  you  know  what  is  the  reason  that  the  blessed 
Jesus,  the  most  glorious  and  benevolent  person  that  ever 
appeared  in  our  world,  is  so  generally  neglected  ?      0 ! 


THE    WnOLE   AND    SICK,    ETC.  279 


why  is  his  love  forgotten  by  those  very  creatures  for  whom 
he  shed  his  blood?  Why  is  not  a  Saviour,  an  almighty 
and  complete  Saviour,  more  sought  after  by  perishing 
sinners?  Why  is  his  name  of  so  little  importance  among 
them?  How  comes  it  to  pass  that  he  may  continue  for 
months,  for  years,  for  scores  of  years,  offering  salvation  to 
them,  entertaining,  commanding,  and  persuading  them  to 
accept  it,  and  warning  them  of  the  dreadful  ruin  they  will 
bring  upon  themselves  by  rejecting  it?  Whence  is  this 
shocking  conduct  in  reasonable  creatures?  O  it  is  the 
same  old  reason  still :  they  are  whole-hearted,  and  do  not 
feel  themselves  dangerously  ill ;  and  how  then  can  they  be 
solicitous  about  a  Physician ! 

What  is  the  reason  that  the  gospel,  which  reveals  and 
offers  life  and  salvation  to  the  world  meets  with  so  cold  a 
reception?  AYhy  does  the  Christian  world  in  general, 
practically  despise  that  religion  which  they  profess !  O ! 
it  is  because  they  are  not  sensible  of  their  need  of  the 
gospel  and  its  blessings.  O !  if  they  were  but  once  sensi- 
ble how  dangerously  ill  they  are,  they  would  soon  change 
their  opinion. 

Would  you  know  why  so  many  fools  make  a  mock  of 
sin !  Why  they  can  go  on  impenitent  in  it,  apprehending 
little  or  no  danger  from  it?  Why  they  can  love  and  delight 
in  sin,  which  God  hates,  and  which  he  has  threatened  with 
such  heavy  vengeance  ?  Alas !  the  reason  is,  they  are  whole ; 
they  do  not  look  upon  sin  as  a  deadly  disease  that  requires 
a  cure,  but  as  their  health  which  ought  to  be  cherished. 

Would  you  know  where  you  should  begin  your  religion, 
or  what  is  the  grand  preparation  for  your  embracing  the 
gospel  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  saved  by  it  ?  To  this 
interesting  inquiry  you  may  easily  infer  an  answer  from 
what  has  been  said.  Begin  your  religion  in  a  deep  sense 
of  sin ;  labor  to  get  a  deep  sense  of  your  disease,  and 
then  you  will  so  give  yourselves  up  to  the  Physician,  that 
he  may  apply  to  you  what  he  thinks  proper,  and  make  an 
effectual  cure.  Some  of  you,  perhaps,  have  wondered  why 
you  see  poor  mourning  creatures  here  and  there  that 
cannot  live  as  you  do — thoughtless,  careless,  and  unaffected. 
You  ascribe  it,  perhaps,  to  melancholy,  to  preciseness,  to 
hypocrisy,  or  an  affectation  of  singularity.  But  I  will  tell 
you  the  true  reason.  They  are  sick :  whereas  you  imagine 
yourselves  well ;  and  you  cannot  wonder  that  the  sick  and 


280  THE   CHARACTERS,    ETC. 

the  healthy  shonld  behave  in  a  different  manner.  Why 
do  they  not  indulge  themselves  in  sin  as  you  do  ?  Is  it 
because  they  are  sick  of  it.  They  see  it  to  be  a  mortal 
poison,  and  they  cannot  be  easy  while  they  feel  it  working 
through  their  frame.  Why  do  they  not,  like  you,  abandon 
themselves,  and  devote  all  their  time  to  some  worldly 
pursuit  ?  0 !  it  is  because  they  are  sick,  and  must  take 
time  for  the  use  of  means  for  their  recovery,  whatever  else 
be  omitted.  Why  are  they  so  much  afraid  of  temptation, 
and  keep  out  of  its  way?  It  is  because  they  are  afraid  of 
a  relapse,  and  that  sin,  their  old  disease,  will  renew  its 
strength.  Whence  are  they  so  often  filled  with  doubts 
and  fears  and  anxious  perplexities?  0!  it  is  because  the 
symptoms  of  the  disorder  are  doubtful,  and  they  know  not 
whether  they  are  in  a  way  of  recovery  or  not.  When 
they  are  satisfied  in  this  point,  then  they  can  rejoice,  and 
that  with  a  joy  more  noble  than  you  are  capable  of 

And  poor,  sick  souls,  be  of  good  cheer;  you  shall  yet  be 
healed.  Yes,  there  is  balm  in  Gilead ;  there  is  a  Physician 
there ;  Jesus  can  heal  you ;  and,  blessed  be  his  name,  he 
is  as  willing  as  he  is  able.  The  deep  sense  of  our  disorder 
is  often  discouraging  to  you ;  O  !  you  are  afraid  it  will  at 
last  prove  mortal.  But  this  very  thing  ought  to  encourage 
you.  The  persons  that  I  cannot  speak  one  comfortable 
word  to  are  not  of  your  character ;  they  are  the  secure, 
whole-hearted  sinners :  but  for  you  this  is  strong  consola- 
tion ;  so  strong  that  it  may  bear  down  all  your  fears  before 
it.  The  sense  of  your  disorder  qualifies  you  for  the  Phy- 
sician, and  renders  you  proper  objects  of  his  care.  TJie 
poor,  the  maimed,  the  halt,  the  blind,  the  broken-hearted, 
are  the  characters  of  the  persons  that  he  has  to  do  with, 
and  who  are  recovering  under  his  hands.  And  are  not 
these  your  character?  They  are  indeed  humbling  and 
mortifying;  but,  O!  they  are  encouraging,  as  they  prepare 
you  for  Christ's  healing  care. 

But  as  for  you,  whole-hearted  sinners,  I  must  pronounce 
you  lost  and  dead  souls.  Jesus  himself  has  declared  tliat 
he  has  no  business  with  such  as  you.  And  if  he  casts  yon 
off,  O !  what  other  physician  can  you  employ  ?  Alas ! 
you  will  die  in  your  sins !  Die  in  your  sins !  O  !  dread- 
ful !  better  die  in  a  ditch,  or  a  dungeon,  than  die  in  your 
sins !  Therefore  now  labor  to  be  sensible  of  your  disorder, 
while  it  is  curable ;  ibr  all  that  arc  not  healed  in  this  life, 


THE   GOSPEL   INVITATION.  281 

are  given  up  as  incurable  for  ever.     Now  apply  to  Christ 
as  a  physician,  for  he  is  willing  to  undertake  your  cure. 


4  *  » 


xxvn. 

A  SACRAMENTAL  DISCOURSE. 

"Then  the  master  of  the  house  being  angry,"  <fec. — Luke,  xiv.  21-24 


THE    CONCLUSION    OF    THE    SERMON. 


I  PROCLAIM  to  all  in  this  assembly  this  day,  (said  the 
preacher,)  all  things  are  now  ready;  come  unto  the  mar- 
riage. And  why  should  you  not  all  comply  ?  why  should 
any  of  you  exclude  yourselves  ?  Let  every  one  resolve 
for  himself,  "for  my  part,  I  will  not  make  myself  that 
shocking  exception."  How  do  you  know  but  this  resolu- 
tion is  now  forming  in  the  person  that  sits  or  stands  next 
to  you  ?  And  shall  you  be  left  behind  ?  Will  you,  as  it 
were,  shut  the  door  of  heaven  against  yourselves  with 
your  own  hand?  I  once  more  assure  you,  there  is  yet 
room,  room  for  all.  There  are  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob, 
and  the  patriarchs,  and  yet  there  is  room.  There  are  many 
from  the  east,  and  from  the  west,  from  the  north,  and 
from  the  south,  and  yet  there  is  room.  There  are  persecu- 
ting Manasseh  and  Paul ;  there  are  Mary  Magdalene,  the 
demoniac,  and  Zaccha3us  the  publican,  and  yet  there  is  room. 
There  is  the  once  incestuous  and  excommunicated,  but 
afterwards  penitent,  Corinthian ;  nay,  there  are  several  of 
the  Corinthians,  who,  as  St.  Paul  tells  us,  were  once  for- 
nicators, idolaters,  effeminate.  Sodomites,  covetous,  thieves, 
drunkards,  revilers,  and  extortioners,  yet  there  they  now 
are,  washed,  sanctified,  justified  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
and  hy  the  Spirit  of  our  God;  and  there  may  you  also  be, 
though  vile  as  they,  if,  with  them,  you  come  in  at  the  call 
of  the  gospel,  for  yet  there  is  room.  There  is,  says  St.  John, 
(Rev.  vii.  9,)  a  great  imdtitude,  ivhich  no  onan  can  num- 
ber, out  of  every  hindred,  and  tongue,  and  nation  ;  multitudes 
from  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  and  America;  and  yet  there  is 
room.     There  is  room  for  you,  poor  negroes  !  and  for  you, 

2  i* 


282  THE   GOSPEL   INVITATION. 

I  hope,  some  vacant  seats  are  reserved.  Therefore,  /  turn 
to  the  G-entiles;  for  to  you  also  is  the  word  of  this  salvatioyi 
sent.  You  may,  with  peculiar  propriety,  be  represented 
by  the  poor,  the  blind,  the  halt,  and  maimed,  in  the  high- 
ways and  hedges.  To  you,  therefore,  I  am  sent  with  the 
offer  of  all  the  rich  blessings  of  the  gospel ;  and  let  me  tell 
you,  you  are  in  extreme  need  of  them,  whether  you  feel 
your  want  or  not :  you  need  them  more  than  liberty,  than 
food,  than  health,  than  life  itself;  and  without  him  you 
must  perish  for  ever.  Come  then,  let  this  feast  be  adorned 
with  your  sable  countenances,  and  furnished  with  guests 
from  the  savage  wilds  of  Africa.  Do  not  mistake  me,  as 
if  I  was  just  now  inviting  you  to  sit  down  at  the  Lord's 
table :  alas !  many  have  sat  there  who  are  now  banished 
for  ever  from  that  Saviour  whom  they  professed  to  com- 
memorate, and  shut  up  in  the  prison  of  hell.  But  I  am 
inviting  you  to  accept  of  the  blessings  of  the  gospel,  which 
I  have  briefly  explained  to  you.  A  hearty  consent  to 
this,  and  nothing  short  of  it,  will  save  you.  Come  then, 
ye  poor  Africans,  come  add  yourselves  to  the  guests  at 
this  divine  entertainment,  for  yet  there  is  room,  and  you 
are  as  welcome  as  kings  and  princes.  There  being  so 
much  room  left  unoccupied  in  the  spacious  apartment  is 
represented  as  an  excitement  to  the  master  of  the  feast  to 
vsend  out  his  servants  to  invite  more  guests ;  for  when  the 
servant  had  made  his  report,  the  master  immediately 
orders  him  to  go  out  into  the  highways  and  hedges,  and  com- 
pel them  to  come  in,  that  his  house  might  he  filled.  He  could 
not  bear  it,  that  the  seats  about  his  table  should  be  empty, 
or  his  provisions  be  lost  for  want  of  guests.  So  the  bless- 
ed God  will  not  suffer  the  death  of  his  Son  to  be  in  vain, 
nor  the  mansions  he  has  prepared  to  be  empty.  That  Je- 
sus may  see  his  spiritual  seed,  and  the  travail  of  his  soul, 
and  be  satisfied ;  and  that  the  heavenly  mansions  he  has 
prepared  may  be  furnished  with  guests,  God  has  appointed 
the  ministry  of  the  gospel  and  the  means  of  grace  to  be 
continued  from  age  to  age :  for  this  end  he  exercises  a 
providential  government  over  the  world,  and  manages  all 
its  affairs  in  subserviency  to  the  grand  scheme  of  redemp- 
tion, for  peopling  the  heavenly  world  with  colonies  trans- 
planted from  our  guilty  globe.  For  this  he  has  continued 
our  sinful  world,  so  ripe  for  destruction,  through  the  space 
of  near  6000  years ;  and  he  will  not  be  defeated  in  his 


THE   GOSPEL   INVITATION.  283 

purposes.  If  you  and  thousands  more  should  refuse,  yet 
liis  feast  shall  be  furnished  with  guests.  He  will  send  his 
gospel  where  it  will  not  pass  for  such  a  trifle  as  it  does 
among  many  of  us.  He  will  send  it  where  thousands  of 
perishing  sinners  will  eagerly  embrace  it,  and  obtain  eter- 
nal salvation  by  it.  But  O !  how  deplorable  will  be  your 
loss !  Since  his  house  shall  and  must  be  filled,  0 !  why 
should  it  not  be  filled  from  Virginia,  and  particularly 
from  among  you,  my  dear  people  ?  Will  you  not  make 
trial,  whether  there  be  not  seats  prepared  in  heaven  for 
you  ?  whether  there  be  not  room  in  the  arms  of  divine 
mercy  for  you  ?  whether  the  blood  of  Christ  has  not  ef&- 
cacy  to  procure  pardon  and  life  even  for  you,  great  sinners 
as  you  are  ?  How  can  I  forbear  to  urge  this  proposal  upon 
my  dear  congregation  ?  We  meet  together  in  the  house  of 
God  on  earth ;  and  many  of  us  sit  down  together  at  his 
table.  And  0 !  why  should  we  not  all  meet  together  at 
the  great  supper  of  the  Lamb  in  heaven  ?  Why  should 
we  not,  as  it  were,  make  an  appointment,  and  engage  to 
meet  one  another  there,  after  the  dispersion  which  death 
will  soon  make  among  us?  While  transported  with  so 
agreeable  a  thought,  I  feel  myself  zealous  to  execute  the 
commission  in  my  text. 

Compel  them  to  come  in.  Overcome  them  with  arguments, 
subdue  them  with  persuasions  and  entreaties,  take  no 
denial ;  never  give  over  till  you  prevail.  Thfs  is  the  com- 
mission of  gospel  ministers ;  and  O  !  that  one  of  the  mean- 
est of  them  may  be  enabled  to  act  according  to  it! 

The  patrons  of  persecution  have  tortured  this  text  to 
speak  in  their  favor.  But  it  is  sufficient  to  observe,  that  it 
is  evident  Christ  never  commissioned  his  apostles,  nor  did 
they  ever  pretend  to  propagate  his  religion,  like  Mahomet, 
with  a  sword  in  his  hand,  but  by  dint  of  evidence,  and  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and,  indeed,  no  other  arms  were 
lit  to  propagate  a  rational  religion.  The  terrors  of  the 
secular  arm  may  scare  men  into  the  profession  of  a  religion, 
but  they  have  no  tendency  to  enlighten  the  understanding, 
or  produce  a  real  faith ;  and  therefore  they  are  fitted  only 
to  make  hypocrites,  but  can  never  make  one  genuine, 
rational  Christian.  The  weapons  >of  the  apostolic  warfare, 
which  were  so  mighty  through  God,  were  miracles,  reason- 
ing, entreaty,  and  the  love  of  a  crucified  Saviour;  and 
these  were  adapted  to  the  nature  of  the  human  mind,  to 


284  THE   GOSPEL   INVITATION. 

subdue  it  without  violence,  and  sweetly  captivate  every 
thought  into  obedience  to  Christ. 

These  weapons,  as  far  as  they  may  be  used  in  our  age,  I 
would  try  upon  you.  I  would  compel  you  to  come  in,  by 
considerations  so  weighty  and  affecting,  that  they  must 
prevail,  unless  reason,  gratitude,  and  every  generous  prin- 
ciple, be  entirely  lost  within  you.  By  the  consideration  of 
your  own  extreme,  perishing  necessity ;  by  the  considera- 
tion of  the  freeness,  the  fullness,  and  sufficiency  of  the 
blessings  offered;  by  the  dread  authority,  by  the  mercy 
and  love  of  God  that  made  you,  and  is  your  constant  bene- 
factor ;  by  the  meekness  and  the  gentleness  of  Christ ;  by 
the  labors  and  toils  of  his  life ;  by  the  agonies  of  his  death ; 
by  his  repeated  injunctions,  and  by  his  melting  invitations  ; 
by  the  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  your  hearts,  and 
by  the  warnings  of  your  own  consciences ;  by  the  eternal 
joys  of  heaven,  and  the  eternal  pains  of  hell ;  by  these 
considerations,  and  by  every  thing  sacred,  important,  and 
dear  to  you,  I  exhort,  I  entreat,  I  charge,  I  adjure  you,  I 
would  compel  you  to  come  in.  You  have  refused,  you 
have  loitered,  you  have  hesitated  long  enough ;  therefore 
now  at  lengtli  come  in  ;  come  in  immediately,  without 
delay.  Come  in,  that  these  rich  provisions  may  not  be 
lost  for  want  of  partakers,  and  that  God's  house  may  be 
completely  furnished  with  guests.  As  yet  there  is  room  ; 
as  yet  the  guests  are  invited ;  as  yet  the  door  is  not  shut. 
The  number  of  those  who  shall  enjoy  this  great  salvation, 
is  not  yet  made  up.  Therefore  you  may  press  in  among 
them,  and  be  added  to  their  happy  company.  But,  ere 
long,  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  will  be  withdraAvn,  the 
servants  be  recalled,  and  no  longer  be  sent  to  search  for 
you.  The  door  of  heaven  will  be  shut  against  all  the 
workers  of  iniquity.  Therefore,  now  is  the  time  to  come 
in.  I  shall  only  urge,  as  another  persuasive,  the  awful 
denunciation  that  concludes  my  text :  1  say  unto  you,  none 
of  those  men  loho  loere  hidden,  and  refused  the  invitation, 
shall  tciste  of  my  supper  ;  that  is,  none  who  refuse  to  receive 
the  blessings  of  the  gospel,  as  they  are  offered,  shall  ever 
enjoy  any  of  them ;  but  must  consume  away  a  miserable 
eternity  in  the  want  of  all  that  is  good  and  happy. 


THE   KEJECTION   OF   GOSPEL   LIGHT,    ETC.  285 


XXVIII. 

THE  REJECTION  OF  GOSPEL  LIGHT  THE  CONDEMMTM  OF 

MEN. 

"  And  this  is  the  condemnation,  that  light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men 
loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  {or  for)  their  deeds  were  evil. — 
John,  iii.  19. 

What  a  strange,  alarming  declaration  is  this !  Light  is 
come  into  the  ivorld:  the  Sun  of  Eighteousness  is  risen 
upon  this  region  of  darl^ness ;  therefore  it  is  enlightened ; 
therefore  it  is  bright  intellectual  day  with  all  its  rational 
inhabitants ;  therefore  they  Avill  no  longer  grope  and  stum- 
ble in  darkness,  but  all  find  their  way  into  the  world  of 
eternal  light  and  glory.  These  would  be  natural  inferences ; 
this  event  we  would  be  apt  to  expect  from  the  entrance  of 
light  into  the  world.  But  hear  and  tremble,  ye  inhabit- 
ants of  the  enlightened  parts  of  the  earth  !  hear  and  trem- 
ble, ye  sons  of  Nassau-Hall,  and  inhabitants  of  Princeton ! 
The  benevolent  Jesus,  the  Friend  of  human  nature,  the 
Saviour  of  men,  whose  lips  never  dropped  an  over-severe 
word,  or  gave  a  false  alarm ;  Jesus  himself  proclaiming, 
This  is  the  condemnation,  that  light  is  com,e  into  the  world,  &;c. 
This  is  the  condemnation  ;  that  is,  this  is  the  great  occasion 
of  more  aggravated  condemnation  at  the  final  judgment, 
and  of  more  severe  and  terrible  punishments  in  the  eternal 
world ;  or,  this  is  the  cause  of  men's  condemning  them- 
selves even  now  at  the  bar  of  their  own  consciences. 

That  light  is  come  into  the  ivorld — Jesus,  the  Sun  of  the 
moral  world,  is  risen,  and  darts  his  beams  around  him  in 
the  gospel.  And  this  furnishes  guilty  minds  with  materials 
for  self-condemnation  ;  and  their  obstinate  resistance  of  the 
light  enhances  their  guilt,  and  will  render  their  condemna- 
tion the  more  aggravated  ;  and  the  reason  is,  that  men  love 
darkness  rather  than  light.  They  choose  ignorance  rather 
than  knowledge  !  The  Sun  of  Righteousness  is  not  agree- 
able to  them,  but  shines  as  a  baleful,  ill-boding  luminary. 
If  they  did  but  love  the  light,  its  entrance  into  the  world 


286  THE   REJECTION   OF   GOSPEL    LIGHT 

would  be  tlieir  salvation ;  but  no\Y  it  is  their  condemnation. 
But  why  do  they  hate  the  light  ?  Truly,  light  is  sweet,  and 
it  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  the  eyes  to  see  the  sun :  and  no 
light  so  sweet  as  this  from  heaven  :  no  sun  so  bright  and 
reviving  as  the  Sun  of  Eighteousness ;  and  why  then  do 
they  not  love  it  ?  Alas !  there  is  no  reason  for  it,  but  this 
wretched  one, 

Because  their  deeds  are  evil.  And  evil  deeds  always  ex- 
cite uneasiness  in  the  light,  and  afford  the  conscience  matter 
for  self-accusation,  therefore  they  Avrap  w^  themselves  in 
darkness,  and  avoid  the  painful  discoveries  of  the  light. 

The  text  directs  us  to  the  following  inquiries : 

What  is  the  light  which  comes  into  the  world  ?  What 
is  the  darkness  that  is  opposed  to  it  ?  What  are  the  evi- 
dences of  men's  loving  darkness  rather  than  light  ?  What 
is  the  reason  of  it  ?  And  in  whal?  respects  the  light's  com- 
ing into  the  world,  and  men's  loving  darkness  rather  than 
light,  is  their  condemnation  ? 

I.  What  is  the  light  which  is  come  into  the  world? 

The  answer  to  this,  and  the  other  questions,  I  shall .  en- 
deavor to  accommodate  to  our  own  times  and  circumstances, 
that  we  may  the  more  readily  apply  it  to  ourselves. 

The  light  of  reason  entered  our  world  as  soon  as  the 
soul  of  man  was  created ;  and,  though  it  is  greatly  obscured 
by  the  grand  apostasy,  yet  some  sparks  of  it  still  remain. 
To  supply  its  defects  the  light  of  revelation  soon  darted  its 
beams  through  the  clouds  of  ignorance,  which  involved  the 
human  mind,  on  its  flvinoj  off  to  so  threat  a  distance  from 
the  Father  of  lights.  This  heavenly  day  began  feebly  to 
dawn  upon  the  first  pair  of  sinners,  in  that  early  promise 
concerning  the  seed  of  the  woman  ;  and  it  grew  brighter  and 
brighter  in  the  successive  revelations  made  to  the  patriarchs, 
to  Moses,  and  the  prophets,  till  at  length  the  Messiah  ap- 
peared, as  an  illustrious  sun  after  a  gradual,  tedious  twilight 
of  the'  opening  dawn. 

The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  often  represents  himself  under 
the  strong  and  agreeable  metaphor  of  light.  lam  the  light 
of  the  world,  says  he ;  he  that  followeih  me  .shall  not  walk  in 
darkness.  I  am  come  a  light  into  the  ivorld,  that  whosoever  he- 
lieveth  in  me  should  not  abide  in  darkness.  But  wherever 
he  does  not  shine,  all  is  sullen  and  dismal  darkness.  Hell 
is  the  blackness  of  darkness  for  ever,  because  he  does  not 
extend  to  it  the  light  of  his  countenance.     That  country 


THE  COISTDEMNATION  OF   MEN".  287 

where  lie  does  not  shine,  is  the  land  of  darhness  and  the 
shadow  of  death ;  and  that  heart  which  is  not  illuminated 
with  the  light  of  the  knoiuledge  of  his  glory,  is  the  gloomy 
dungeon  of  infernal  spirits ;  but  wherever  he  shines,  there 
is  intellectual  day,  the  bright  meridian  of  glory  and  bless-, 
edness. 

His  gospel  also  is  frequently  represented  as  a  great  light ; 
and  no  metaphor  was  ever  used  with  more  emphasis  and 
propriety.  It  is  the  medium  through  which  we  discover 
the  glory  of  the  Deity,  the  beauties  of  holiness,  the  evil  of 
sin,  and  the  reality  and  infinite  importance  of  eternal,  in- 
visible things.  This  is  the  light  that  reveals  the  secrets  of 
the  heart,  and  discovers  ourselves  to  ourselves.  It  is  this 
that  gives  us  a  just  and  full  view  of  our  duty  to  God  and 
man,  which  is  but  imperfectly  or  falsely  represented  in 
every  other  system  of  religion  and  morality  in  the  world. 
It  is  this  that  discovers  and  ascertains  a  method  in  which 
rebels  may  be  reconciled  to  their  offended  Sovereign,  and 
exhibits  a  Saviour  in  full  view  to  perishing  sinners.  Hail ! 
sacred  Heaven-born  light !  welcome  to  our  eyes,  thou  brightest 
and  fairest  effulgence  of  the  divine  perfections !  May  this  day 
spring  from  on  high,  visit  all  the  regions  of  this  benighted 
world,  and  overwhelm  it  as  with  a  deluge  of  celestial  light  [ 
Blessed  be  God,  its  vital  rays  have  reached  to  us  in  these 
ends  of  the  earth;  and  if  any  of  us  remain  ignorant  of  the 
important  discoveries  it  makes,  it  is  because  we  love  dark- 
ness rather  than  light !     Which  leads  me  to  inquire, 

II.  What  is  that  darkness  that  is  opposed  to  this  heavenly 
light  ? 

Darkness  is  a  word  of  gloomy  import  ;  and  there  is 
hardly  any  thing  dismal  or  destructive  but  what  is  ex- 
pressed by  it  in  sacred  language.  But  the  precise  sense  of 
the  word  in  my  text  is,  a  state  of  ignorance,  and  the  absence 
of  the  means  of  conviction.  Men  love  darkness  rather  than 
light ;  that  is,  they  choose  to  be  ignorant  rather  than  well- 
informed  ;  ignorant  particularly  of  such  things  as  will  give 
them  uneasiness  to  know — as  their  sin,  and  the  danger  to 
which  it  exposes  them.  They  are  willfully  ignorant ;  and 
hence  they  hate  the  means  that  would  alarm  them  with 
the  mortifying  discovery.  They  would  rather  be  flattered 
than  told  the  honest  truth,  and  know  their  own  character 
and  condition  ;  and  hence  they  shut  their  eyes  against  the 
light  of  the  gospel,  that  would  flash  the  painful  conviction 


288  THE   REJECTION   OF    GOSPEL    LIGHT 

upon  tliem.  Though,  the  light  of  the  gospel  shines  round 
you,  yet  are  not  some  of  you  involved  in  this  darkness? 
This  you  may  know  by  the  next  inquiry, 

III.  What  are  the  evidences  of  men's  loving  darkness 
rather  than  light  ? 

The  general  evidence,  which  comprehends  all  the  rest, 
is  their  avoiding  the  means  of  conviction,  and  using  all  the 
artifices  in  their  power  to  render  them  ineffectual.  It  is 
not  impossible  to  characterize  such  of  you  as  love  darkness 
rather  than  light,  though  you  may  be  so  much  upon  your 
guard  against  the  discovery,  as  not  to  perceive  your  own 
character. 

Though  you  may  have  a  turn  for  speculation,  and  perhaps 
delight  in  every  other  branch  of  knowledge,  yet  the  knowl- 
edge of  yourselves,  the  knowledge  of  disagTceable  duties, 
the  discovery  of  your  sin  and  danger,  of  your  miserable  con- 
dition as  under  the  condemnation  of  the  divine  law,  this 
kind  of  self-knowledge  you  carefully  shun ;  and  when  it 
irresistibly  flashes  upon  you,  you  endeavor  to  shut  up  all 
the  avenues  of  your  mind  through  which  it  might  break 
upon  you,  and  you  avoid  those  means  of  conviction  from 
which  it  proceeds. 

You  set  yourselves  upon  an  attempt  very  preposterous 
and  absurd  in  a  rational  being,  and  that  is,  not  to  think. 
When  the  ill-boding  surmise  rises  within,  "  All  is  not  well ; 
I  am  not  prepared  for  the  eternal  world ;  if  I  should  die  in 
this  condition  I  am  undone  for  ever ;"  I  say,  when  con- 
science thus  whispers  your  doom,  it  may  make  you  sad 
and  pensive  for  a  minute  or  two,  but  you  soon  forget  it ; 
you  designedly  labor  to  cast  it  out  of  your  thoughts,  and 
to  recover  your  former  negligent  serenity.  The  light  of 
conviction  is  a  painful  glare  to  a  guilty  eye  ;  and  you  wrap 
up   yourselves  in  darkness,  lest  it  should  break  in  upon 

When  your  thoughts  are  likely  to  fix  on  this  ungrateful 
subject,  do  you  not  labor  to  divert  them  into  another 
channel  ?  You  immerse  yourselves  in  business,  you  min- 
gle in  company,  you  indulge  and  cherish  a  thoughtless 
levity  of  mind,  you  break  out  of  retirement  into  the  wide 
world,  that  theatre  of  folly,  trifling,  and  dissipation  ;  and 
all  this  to  scatter  the  gloom  of  conviction  that  hangs  over 
your  ill-boding  minds,  and  silence  the  clamors  of  an  exas- 
perated conscience  !     You  laugh,  or  talk,  or  work,  or  study 


THE   CONDEMNATION   OF   MEN.  '28:9 

away  tliese  fits  of  seriousness  !  You  endeavor  to  prejudice 
yourselves  against  them  by  giving  them  ill  names,  as 
melancholy,  spleen,  and  I  know  not  what ;  whereas  they 
are  indeed  the  honest  struggles  of  an  oppressed  conscience 
to  obtain  a  fair  hearing,  and  give  you  faithful  warning  of 
approaching  ruin ;  they  are  the  benevolent  efforts  of  the 
Spirit  of  grace  to  save  a  soul !  And,  0  !  it  would  be  happy 
for  you  if  you  had  yielded  to  them,  and  cherished  the 
serious  hour !  For  the  same  reason,  also,  you  love  a  soft 
representation  of  Christianity,  as  an  easy,  indolent,  inactive 
thing ;  requiring  no  vigorous  exertion,  and  attended  with 
no  dubious  conflict,  but  encouraging  your  hopes  of  heaven 
in  a  course  of  sloth,  carelessness,  and  indulgence.  Those 
are  the  favorite  sermons  and  favorite  books  which  flatter 
you  with  smooth  things,  putting  the  most  favorable  con- 
struction upon  your  wickedness,  and  representing  the  way 
to  heaven  smooth  and  easy.  Or  if  you  have  an  unaccount- 
able fondness  for  faithful  and  alarming  preaching,  as  it 
must  be  owned  some  self-flatterers  have,  it  is  not  with  a 
view  to  apply  it  to  yourselves,  but  other  objects ;  and 
whenever  it  forces  upon  you  a  glance  of  yourselves,  you 
turn  from  it  and  hate  it. 

Hatred  of  the  light,  perhaps,  is  one  reason  why  so  many 
among  us  are  so  impatient  of  public  worship ;  so  fond  of 
their  own  homes  on  the  saci'ed  hours  consecrated  to  divine 
service  ;  and  so  reluctant,  so  late,  or  so  inconstant  in  their 
attendance.  It  is  darkness,  perhaps,  at  home ;  but  the 
house  of  Grod  is  filled  with  light,  which  they  do  not  love. 
This,  also,  is  one  reason  why  the  conversation  of  the  zealous, 
communicative  Christians,  who  are  not  ashamed  to  talk  of 
what  lies  nearest  their  hearts,  I  mean  their  religion,  their 
Saviour,  and  their  Cod,  and  to  express  an  abhorrence  of 
what  they  so  sincerely  hate,  I  mean  the  vices  of  mankind, 
and  every  appearance  of  evil ;  I  say,  this  is  one  reason  why 
their  conversation  is  such  a  heavy  burden,  such  a  painful 
restraint  to  many.  Such  men  reflect  the  beams  of  the  Sun 
of  Righteousness  and  the  beauties  of  holiness  all  around 
them  ;  they  carry  light  with  them  whithersoever  they  go, 
and  strike  conviction  to  the  guilty.  The  strictness,  the 
warm  devotion  and  spirituality  of  their  lives  pass  a  sen- 
tence of  condemnation  upon  sinners;  a  sentence  which 
they  cannot  but  feel,  and  which,  therefore,  renders  them 
uneasy.     Hence    it   is  that   such    livelv  and  circumspect 

25 


290  THE   REJECTION   OF  GOSPEL  LIGHT 

Christians  are  not  at  all  popular  in  the  world;  but  the 
favorites  of  the  world  are  your  pliable,  temporizing,  com- 
plaisant Christians,  that  never  carry  their  religion  with 
them  into  polite  company,  but  conform  themselves  to  the 
taste  of  those  they  converse  with.  These  give  no  man's 
conscience  uneasiness,  they  reflect  no  heavenly  light,  but 
thicken  the  darkness  of  every  company  in  which  they 
appear;  therefore  they  are  acceptable  to  the  lovers  of 
darkness. 

Another  expedient  that  has  often  been  used,  and  which 
some  of  you,  perhaps,  have  attempted,  to  avoid  the  light, 
is,  to  endeavor  to  work  up  yourselves  to  a  disbelief  of  the 
Christian  revelation.  If  you  could  banish  that  heavenly 
light  out  of  the  world,  or  substitute  darkness  in  its  place, 
then  you  might  perpetuate  the  works  of  darkness  with 
more  confidence  and  licentiousness.  Therefore  you  eagerly 
listen  to  the  laughs,  the  jeers,  the  railleries  and  sophisms 
of  loose  wits  against  it ;  and  you  are  afraid  to  give  a  fair 
hearing  to  many  satisfactory  evidences  in  its  favor.  Thus 
you  cherish  that  hideous  monster,  infidelity ;  your  own 
offspring,  not  Satan's,  though  the  father  of  lies;  for  he 
believes  and  trembles. 

These  artifices,  and  the  like,  are  the  effects,  and,  conse- 
quently, the  evidences  and  indications  of  men's  loving- 
darkness  rather  than  light.  And  instead  of  a  larger  illus- 
tration, I  shall  conclude  this  head  with  a  plain,  honest 
appeal  to  my  hearers.  As  in  the  presence  of  the  heart- 
searching  God,  I  solemnly  appeal  to  your  consciences, 
whether  you  do  not  deal  partially  with  yourselves,  and  re- 
fuse pursuing  those  hints  of  your  dangerous  condition,  till 
you  make  a  full  discovery  ?  Do  not  your  hearts  smite  you 
because  you  have  suppressed  evidence,  when  it  was  against' 
you,  and  shut  your  eyes  against  conviction?  When  the 
glass  of  the  divine  law  has  been  held  up  before  you,  and 
shown  you  your  own  hideous  image,  have  you  not  gone 
away,  and  soon  forgot  what  manner  of  man  you  weref  Do 
you  not  know  in  your  consciences,  that  the  hopes  you  en- 
tertain of  future  happiness  are  not  the  result  of  severe  re- 
peated trial,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  owe  their  strength  and 
even  their  being  to  a  superficial  examination,  or  none  at 
all,  to  blind  self-flattery  and  excessive  self-love,  which 
tempt  you  to  believe  things  as  you  would  have  them  ?  Is 
it  censoriousness,  or  is  it  evidence  and  faithfulness,  that 


THE   CONDEMNATION   OF   MEN.  291 

constrains  me  to  cry  oat,  0  !  how  rare  are  well-grounded, 
well-attested  hopes  among  us  ?  Hopes  that  have  not  been 
slightly  entertained,  nor  retained  without  good  evidence, 
after  impartial  repeated  trials ;  hopes  that  have  risen  and 
fallen,  gathered  strength  or  languished,  been  embraced  or 
abandoned,  perhaps  a  thousand  times,  according  to  the 
various  degrees  of  evidence ;  and  after  a  series  of  such 
vicissitudes,  attended  with  a  variety  of  corresponding  pas- 
sions, of  joys  and  fears,  of  discouraging  anxieties  and 
transporting  prospects,  have  at  length  arrived  at  a  settled, 
confirmed  state,  supported  by  that  only  sufficient  proof, 
conspicuous  holiness  of  heart  and  life.  I  proceed  to  in- 
quire, 

IV.  What  is  the  reason  of  this  abused  preference,  that 
men  love  darkness  rather  than  light  ?  The  melancholy 
reason  of  this  is  easily  discovered,  and  has  been  partially 
anticipated ;  and  it  is  this,  that  men  love  ease  and  security 
of  mind  rather  than  fear  and  anxiety.  They  are  really 
obnoxious  sinners,  under  the  terrible  displeasure  of  Al- 
mighty God,  and  on  the  slippery  brink  of  everlasting  de- 
struction. Now  to  have  a  full  conviction  of  this  would 
alarm  their  fears,  imbitter  their  pleasures,  damp  their 
eager  pursuits,  and  cast  their  minds  into  a  ferment  of  anx- 
iety and  terror.  But  to  be  blind  to  all  these  miserable 
prospects,  to  be  elated  with  sanguine  expectations  of  the 
contrarj^,  to  have  all  serene  and  calm  within,  to  be  charm- 
ed Avith  all  the  fine  chimeras  of  a  flattering  imagination, 
to  be  fearless  of  danger,  and  pleased  with  themselves ; 
this  is  a  state  they  naturally  delight  in :  in  this  state  they 
will  lull  themselves  asleep  at  all  adventures,  regardless  of 
the  consequences ;  and  as  darkness  is  the  most  proper 
attendant  of  sleep,  therefore  they  choose  it.  But  the  light 
of  the  gospel  let  into  the  conscience  would  give  them  quite 
another  view  of  things — would  overturn  all  their  towerino; 
hopes,  and  set  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  in  array  against 
them — would  open  such  shocking  prospects  in  the  ways 
of  sin,  that  they  could  no  longer  dare  to  walk  in  them ; 
would  constrain  them  to  indulge  the  sorrows  of  a  broken 
heart,  and  to  long,  and  pant,  and  look,  and  cry  for  a  Sa- 
viour. This  would  be  a  very  painful  exercise  to  them ; 
and  therefore  they  hate  and  shun  the  light  which  would 
force  the  unwelcome  conviction  upon  them. 

y.  Let  us  inquire  in  what  respects  the  light's  coming 


292  THE   REJECTION   OF   GOSPEL   LIGHT 

into  the  world,  and  men's  loving  darkness  rather  than 
light,  is  their  condemnation. 

Here  I  have  only  to  illustrate  two  particulars  already 
hinted :  that  this  furnishes  them  with  matter  for  self-con- 
demnation now,  and  will  be  the  occasion  of  their  more  ag- 
gravated condemnation  in  the  eternal  world. 

1.  This  furnishes  them  with  matter  of  self-condemna- 
tion in  the  present  state.  It  is  hard,  perhaps  impossible, 
for  sinners  under  the  meridian  light  of  the  gospel,  to  avoid 
all  conviction  of  their  guilt  and  danger.  That  light  is  very 
penetrating,  and  will  dart  its  rays  through  the  thickest 
glooms  of  ignorance  ;  it  is  vital  and  powerful,  sharper  than 
a  two-edged  sword ;  lyiercing  and  dividing  asunder  the  soid 
and  spirit,  the  joints  and  marrow  ;  and  is  a  discerner  of  the 
thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart. .  Such  of  you,  my  breth- 
ren, as  are  resolved  to  shun  the  mortification  of  self- 
knowledge,  must  live  in  a  situation  very  unfavorable  to 
your  design.  You  have  had  "  burning  and  shining  lights" 
among  you  ;"^  who,  I  doubt  not^  shine  as  the  sun,  and  as 
the  stars  in  the  firmament  for  ever  and  ever ;  but,  when 
they  are  translated  to  a  higher  sphere,  the  gospel  has  not 
left  you,  but  still  shines  around  you ;  and  you  will  find 
it  very  difiicult,  I  hope  impossible,  to  wrap  up  yourselves 
in  Egyptian  darkness  in  such  a  Goshen,  such  a  land  of 
vision.  In  Tartary  or  Japan,  or  some  savage  region  of 
darkness,  you  might  have  lived  in  contented  ignorance, 
and  avoided  those  unacceptable  glares  of  light  which  will 
now  break  in  upon  you,  in  spite  of  all  your  vigilance ;  for 
under  the  faithful  and  solemn  preaching  of  the  gospel, 
your  consciences  will  often  be  disturbed,  and  you  will  find 
yourselves  unable  to  go  on  in  sin,  bold  and  intrepid.  And 
though  in  the  thoughtless  gayety  of  health,  and  the  hurry 
and  din  of  business,  you  may  drown  the  clamors  of  con- 
science, yet  in  a  retired  hour,  upon  a  sick-bed,  and  in  the 
near  view  of  death  and  eternity,  conscience  will  speak,  and 
constrain  you  to  hear ;  and  thus  you  will  live  unhap})y, 
self-condemned  creatures  in  this  world,  till  you  are  con- 
demned by  the  righteous  sentence,  of  God  in  the  world  to 
come.     Therefore  consider, 

2.  Your  loving  darkness  rather  than  light,  will  occasion 
your  more  aggravated  condemnation  in  the  eternal  world. 

*  Mr. -Burr  and  Mr.  Edwards,  Presidents  of  the  College  of  Nassau-Hall 
before  Mr.  Davies. 


THE   CONDEMNATION   OF   MEN.  293 

It  was  in  your  power  to  receive  warning,  and  discover 
your  danger  in  time ;  nay,  it  cost  you  some  pains  to  avoid 
the  discovery,  and  make  light  of  the  warning.  And  what 
a  faithful  source  of  self-tormenting  reflections  will  this  be ! 
How  will  you  fret,  and  vex,  and  accuse  yourselves  for  acting 
so  foolish  a  part !  How  will  you  exhaust  and  spend  your- 
selves in  eager,  fruitless  wishes,  that  you  had  admitted 
conviction  while  the  danger  was  avoidable !  But  0,  it  will 
then  be  too  late !  Hell  is  a  reign  of  darkness  too,  but  not 
of  that  soothing,  peaceful  darkness  of  ignorance,  which 
you  now  prefer  to  the  light  of  the  gospel,  but  a  lowering, 
tremendous,  tormenting  darkness,  that  will  for  ever  hide 
every  bright  and  pleasing  prospect  from  your  eyes,  and 
yet  be  the  proper  medium  for  discovering  sights  of  woe 
and  terror ;  a  thick  darkness,  occasioned  by  the  everlast- 
ing eclipse  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  and  the  light  of 
God's  countenance,  who  Avill  never  dart  one  ray  of  comfort 
or  hope  through  the  sullen  gloom.  In  this  blackness  of 
darkness  you  must  dwell  for  ever,  who  now  love  darkness 
rather  than  light.  And  0 !  how  will  your  consciences 
haunt  and  terrify  you,  in  that  cheerless  and  stormy  night ! 

And  now,  my  dear  hearers,  upon  a  review  of  this  sub- 
ject, you  see  your  own  circumstances ;  the  light  is  come 
among  you ;  it  shines  all  around  you ;  and  I  doubt  not 
but  at  times  it  finds  some  openings  through  which  it  forces 
its  way  even  into  unwilling  minds.  You  have  light  to 
distinguish  between  truth  and  error ;  between  sin  and  du- 
ty ;  between  the  way  to  heaven  and  the  way  to  hell ;  you 
are  warned,  admonished,  and  instructed ;  you  have  the 
strongest  inducements  to  a  life  of  religion,  and  the  strong- 
est dissuasives  from  a  course  of  sin.  I  leave  you  therefore 
to  deterfnine  what  your  guilt  and  punishment  must  be 
if  you  choose  darkness  rather  than  light — light  so  clear, 
so  reviving,  so  salutary,  so  divine!  This  alarming  sub- 
ject is  very  pertinent  to  us  all,  and  we  should  all  apply 
it  to  ourselves ;  but  it  is  so  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  resi- 
dents of  this  house,  (Nassau-Hall,)  that  I  cannot  but  direct 
my  address  particularly  to  you,  my  dear  pupils,  who  are 
the  children  of  the  light  in  more  respects  than  one. 

There  is  not  one  in  a  thousand  of  the  sons  of  men  that 
enjoys  your  advantages.  Light,  human  and  divine,  natu- 
ral and  supernatural,  ancient  and  modern ;  tliat  is,  knowl- 
edge of  every  kind  shines  upon  you,  and  you  are  every 

25* 


294  THE   KEJECTION   OF   GOSPEL   LIGHT,    ETC. 

day  basking  under  its  rays.  But  let  me  put  you  in  mind, 
that  unless  you  admit  the  light  of  the  glorious  gospel  of 
Christ  to  shine  in  your  hearts,  you  will  still  be  the  children 
of  darkness,  and  confined  in  the  blackness  of  darkness  for 
ever.  This  is  intolerably  shocking,  even  in  supposition. 
Suppose  your  sins  should  be  the  sins  of  men  of  learning 
and  knowledge,  the  most  daring  and  gigantic  sins  on  this 
side  of  hell ;  suppose  you  should  turn  out  sinners  of  great 
parts,  fine  geniuses,  like  the  fallen  angels,  those  vast  intel- 
lects, wise  but  wicked.  Suppose  it  should  be  your  high- 
est character,  that  you  can  harangue  well,  that  you  know 
a  few  dead  languages,  that  you  have  passed  through  a 
course  of  philosophy ;  but  as  to  that  knowledge  which 
sanctifies  all  the  rest,  and  renders  them  useful  to  ourselves 
or  others ;  that  knowledge  which  alone  can  make  wise  to 
salvation,  and  guide  you  to  avoid  the  paths  of  destruction, 
you  shun  it,  you  hate  it,  and  choose  to  remain  contentedly 
ignorant  in  this  important  respect ;  suppose  your  parents, 
who  have  been  at  the  expense  of  your  education ;  your 
friends,  who  have  entertained  such  high  and  pleasing  ex- 
pectations concerning  3''ou ;  your  careful  instructors,  who 
observe  your  growing  improvements  with  proportional 
pleasure ;  suppose,  that  after  all  this  generous  labor,  and 
all  these  pleasing  prospects,  they  should  see  you  at  last 
doomed  to  everlasting  darkness,  for  your  voluntary  abuse 
of  the  light  you  now  enjoy ; — suppose  these  things,  and — ■ 
but  the  consequences  of  these  suppositions  are  so  terrible, 
that  I  am  not  hardy  enough  to  mention  them.  And  O ! 
shall  they  ever  become  matters  of  fact ! 

Therefore,  my  dear  youth,  admit  the  light,  love  it,  and 
pursue  it,  though  at  first  it  should  make  such  discoveries 
as  may  be  painful  to  you.  By  discovering  your  danger  in 
time,  you  may  be  able  to  escape  it ;  but  never  expect  to 
remove  it  by  the  silly  expedient  of  shutting  your  eyes. 
Be  impartial  inquirers  after  truth  as  to  yourselves,  as  well 
as  other  things,  and  no  longer  attempt  to  put  a  cheat  upon 
yourselves.  Alas !  how  childish  and  foolish,  as  well  as 
wicked  and  ruinous,  would  such  an  imposture  be !  The 
gospel,  in  this  particular,  only  requires  you  to  be  honest 
men ;  and  surely  this  is  a  most  moderate  and  reasonable 
demand.  Therefore,  be  ye  children  of  the  light  and  of  the 
day,  and  walk  as  such,  and  then  it  will  be  a  blessing  to  the 
world  and  to  yourselves,  that  ever  you  were  born. 


A  NEW  year's  gift.  295 


XXIX. 

A  NEW  YEAR'S  GIFT. 

"  And  that,  knowing  the  time,  that  now  it  is  high  time  to  awake  out  of 
sleep :  for  now  is  our  salvation  nearer  than  when  we  believed." — Rom.  xiii.  11. 

Time,  like  an  ever-running  stream,  is  penDetually  gli- 
ding on  and  hurrying  us,  and  all  the  sons  of  men,  into  the 
boundless  ocean  of  eternity.  We  are  now  entering  upon 
one  of  those  imaginary  lines  of  division  which  men  have 
drawn  to  measure  out  time  for  their  own  conveniency; 
and  while  we  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  a  new  year,  it 
becomes  us  to  make  a  solemn  contemplative  pause ;  though 
time  can  make  no  pause,  but  rushes  on  with  its  usual 
velocity.  Let  us  take  some  suitable  reviews  and  prospects 
of  time  past  and  future,  and  indulge  such  reflections  as  our 
transition  from  year  to  year  naturally  tends  to  suggest. 

The  grand  and  leading  reflection  is  that  in  the  text,  with 
which  I  present  you  as  a  New  Year's  Gift :  Knoiuing  the 
time,  that  it  is  now  high  time  to  awake  out  of  sleep. 

The  Komans,  to  whom  this  epistle  was  written,  were 
Christians  indeed,  in  the  judgment  of  charity ;  they  were 
such  whose  salvation  the  apostle  could  point  at  as  near 
approaching :  Now,  says  he,  is  your  salvation  nearer  than 
when  you  believed;  and  yet  he  calls  even  upon  such  to 
awake  out  of  sleep.  Even  sincere  Christians  are  too  often 
apt  to  fall  into  negligence  and  security.  Now  such  a  state 
of  dullness  and  inactivity  is  often  represented  by  the  meta- 
phor, Sleep ;  because,  as  sleep  disables  us  from  natural 
actions,  and  blunts  our  animal  senses,  so  this  spiritual  sleep 
indisposes  the  soul  for  the  service  of  God  and  spiritual 
sensations. 

Hence  it  follows,  that  to  awake  out  of  sleep  signifies  to 
rouse  out  of  carnal  security,  to  shake  off  spiritual  sloth, 
and  to  engage  in  the  concerns  of  religion  with  vigor  and 
full  exertion,  like  men  awake.  This  is  a  duty  proper  at 
all  times.  There  is  not  one  moment  of  time  in  which  a 
Christian  may  lawfully  and  safely  be  secure  and  negligent. 


296  A  NEW  yeak's  gift.  • 

Yet  the  apostle  intimates,  that  some  particukir  times  call 
for  particular  vigilance  and  activity  ;  and  that  to  sleep  at 
such  times  is  a  sin  peculiarly  aggravated.  Now,  says  he, 
it  is  high  time  for  us  to  awake  out  of  sleep  ;  this  is  not  a  time 
for  us  ta  sleep ;  this  time  calls  upon  us  to  rouse  and  exert 
ourselves ;  this  is  the  hour  for  action ;  we  have  slept  too 
long  already ;  now  let  us  rouse  and  rise. 

The  reason  the  apostle  urges  upon  the  Eoman  Christians 
to  awake  at  that  time  is  very  strong  and  moving ;  it  is  this: 
Noio  is  our  salvation  nearer  than  ivhen  ive  believed.  Or,  as  he 
expresses  it  in  the  next  verse,  the  night  is  far  spent,  the  day 
is  at  hand.  The  gloomy,  turbulent  night  of  the  present 
state  is  near  over ;  the  dawn  of  eternal  day  is  just  ready 
to  open  upon  us  ;  and  can  we  sleep  at  such  a  time  ?  What, 
sleep  on  the  very  threshold  of  heaven !  sleep,  when  salva- 
tion is  just  ready  to  embrace  us !  sleep,  when  the  dawn  of 
celestial  day  is  just  about  shining  around  us !  Is  it  possi- 
ble we  should  sleep  at  such  a  time  ? 

The  text  implies  that  Christians  should  always  be  grow- 
ing in  grace ;  and  that  the  nearer  their  salvation  is  the  more 
lively  and  zealous  should  they  be ;  and  since  it  is  nearer 
this  year  than  the  last,  they  ought  to  be  more  holy  this  year 
than  the  last.  The  nearer  they  are  to  heaven  the  more 
heavenly  they  should  be. 

My  chief  design,  at  present,  is,  to  lead  you  to  know  the 
time,  and  to  make  such  reflections  upon  it,  as  its  nature 
and  circumstances  require,  and  as  are  suited  to  our  present 
conditions. 

The  first  thing  I  would  set  you  upon,  as  a  necessary  in- 
troduction to  all  the  rest,  is  the  important  but  neglected 
duty  of  self-examination.  Methinks  it  may  shock  a  man 
to  enter  upon  a  new  year,  without  knowing  whether  he 
shall  be  in  heaven  or  in  hell  before  the  end  of  it ;  and  that 
man  can  give  but  a  very  poor  account  of  the  last  year,  and 
perhaps  twenty  or  thirty  years  before  it,  that  cannot  yet 
give  any  satisfactory  answer  to  this  grand  question.  Let 
us  therefore  resolve,  this  day,  that  we  will  not  live  another 
year  strangers  to  ourselves,  and  utterly  uncertain  what 
will  become  of  us  through  an  endless  duration.  This  day 
let  us  put  this  question  to  our  hearts :  "  What  am  I  ?  Am 
I  a  humble,  dutiful  servant  of  God,  or  am  I  a  disobedient, 
impenitent  sinner  ?  Am  I  a  disciple  of  Christ  in  reality  ? 
or  do  I  only  wear  his  name,  and  make  an  empty  profession 


A  NEW  year's  gift.  ^  297 

of  his  religion  f  Whither  am  I  bound  ?  For  heaven  or 
for  hell  ?  Which  am  I  most  fit  for  in  temper  ?  For  the 
region  of  perfect  holiness,  or  for  that  of  sin  and  impurity  ? 
Shall  I  stupidly  delay  the  determination,  till  it  be  passed 
by  the  irrevocable  sentence  of  the  Supreme  Judge,  before 
whom  I  may  stand  before  this  year  is  at  a  close  ?" 

If  I  should  push  home  this  inquiry,  it  will  probably  dis- 
cover two  sorts  of  persons  among  us,  to  whom  my  text 
leads  me  particularly  to  address  myself:  the  one,  entirely 
destitute  of  true  religion,  and  consequently  altogether  un- 
prepared for  a  happy  eternity,  and  yet  careless  and  secure 
in  that  dangerous  situation  ;  the  other,  Christians  indeed, 
and  consequently  habitually  prepared  for  their  latter  end, 
but  criminally  remiss  or  formal  in  the  concerns  of  religion, 
and  in  the  duties  they  owe  to  God  and  man.  The  one 
sunk  in  a  deep  sleep  in  sin ;  the  other  nodding  and  slum- 
bering, though  upon  the  slippery  brink  of  eternity.  ISTow 
as  to  both  these  sort  of  persons,  it  is  high  time  for  them 
to  awake  out  of  sleep.  And  this  exhortation  I  would 
press  upon  them,  first,  by  some  general  considerations  com- 
mon to  both  ;  and  then  by  some  particular  proper  to  each 
respectively.     The  general  considerations  are  such  as  these : 

I.  Consider  the  uncertainty  of  time  as  to  you.  You 
may  die  the  next  year,  the  next  month,  the  next  week, 
the  next  hour,  or  the  next  moment.  And  I  once  knew  a 
minister  who,  while  he  was  making  this  observation,  was 
made  a  striking  example  of  it,  and  instantly  dropped  down 
dead  in  the  pulpit.  When  you  look  forward  through  the 
year  now  begun,  you  see  what  may  never  be  your  own. 
No,  you  cannot  call  one  day  of  it  your  own.  Before  that 
day  comes,  you  may  have  done  with  time,  and  be  entered 
upon  eternity.  Men  presume  upon  time,  as  if  it  was  en- 
tailed upon  them  for  so  many  years,  and  this  is  the  delusion 
that  ruins  multitudes.  How  many  are  now  in  eternity 
who  begun  the  last  year  with  as  little  expectation  of  death, 
and  as  sanguine  hopes  of  long  life,  as  you  have  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  present !     And  this  may  be  your  doom. 

Therefore,  if  sinners  would  repent  and  believe  ;  if  they 
would  obtain  the  favor  of  Grod  and  preparation  for  the 
heavenly  state ;  and  if  saints  would  make  their  calling  and 
election  sure  ;  if  they  would  be  of  service  to  their  families, 
their  friends,  their  country,  and  mankind  in  general,  now 
is  the  time  for  them  to  awake  out  of  sleep,  and  set  about 


298  A  XE\y  year's  gift. 

their  respective  work.  Now  is  the  time,'  because  this  is 
the  only  time  they  are  certain  of.  Sinners,  jou  may  be  in 
hell  before  this  year  finishes  its  round,  if  you  delay  the 
great  blessings  of  religion  any  longer.  And  saints !  if  you 
neglect  to  improve  the  present  time,  you  may  be  compelled 
to  shoot  the  gulf  of  eternity,  and  launch  away  to  unknown 
coasts,  full  of  fears  and  perplexities. 

II.  Consider  the  shortness  of  time  as  to  you.  Time,  in 
its  utmost  extent,  including  what  is  past  from  the  creation, 
and  what  is  future  to  the  conflagration,  is  nothing  to  eternity. 
But  the  time  of  your  life  is  vastly  shorter.  That  part  of 
time  which  is  parceled  out  to  you,  is  not  only  uncertain, 
but  extremely  short ;  it  is  uncertain  when  it  will  end,  but 
it  is  absolutely  certain  it  will  end  very  soon.  You  cannot 
hope  to  surpass  the  common  standard  of  long  lives ;  and 
that  is  but  seventy  or  eighty  years.  A  shorter  space  than 
that  will  probably  convey  you  from  this  world  to  heaven 
or  hell.  And  is  it  not  time  then  for  you  to  awake  out  of 
sleep  ? 

III.  Consider  how  much  of  your  time  has  been  lost  and 
misspent  already.  Some  of  you  that  are  now  sincere  ser- 
vants of  God  may  recollect  how  late  in  life  you  engaged  in 
his  service ;  how  long  you  stood  idle  in  his  vineyard,  when 
his  work  was  before  you.  and  his  wages  in  your  offer. 
How  many  guilty  days  and  years  have  you  spent  in  the 
drudgery  of  sin,  and  in  the  base  neglect  of  God  and  your 
immortal  souls.  Others  of  you,  who  have  the  noble  pleas- 
ure of  reflecting  that  you  devoted  yourselves  to  God  early 
in  comparison  to  others,  are  yet  sensible  how  many  days 
and  years  were  lost  before  you  made  so  wise  a  choice,  lost 
in  the  sins  and  follies  of  childhood  and  youth.  And  the 
best  of  you  have  reason  to  lament  how  much  of  precious 
time  you  have  misspent — how  much  of  it  has  been  wasted 
upon  trifles,  or  in  an  over-eager  pursuit  of  this  vain  world. 
Does  not  the  loss,  upon  the  whole,  amount  to  many  days, 
and  even  years  ?  And  a  day  is  no  small  loss  to  a  creature 
who  has  so  few  days  at  most  to  prepare  for  eternity. 

As  to  many  of  you,  is  it  not  sadly  evident  you  have 
lost  all  the  days  and  years  that  have  rolled  over  your 
heads?  You  have  perhaps  managed  time  well,  as  to  the 
purposes  of  the  present  life ;  but  that  is  the  lowest  and 
most  insignificant  use  of  it.  Time  is  given  as  a  space  for 
repentance  and  preparation  for  eternity ;  but  have  you  not 


A  NEW  year's  gift.  299 

entirely  lost  it,  as  to  this  grand  use  of  it  ?  Nay,  are  not 
your  hearts  more  hard,  and  you  less  prepared  for  eternity 
now,  than  you  were  some  years  ago?  To  heighten  the 
loss,  you  should  consider  it  is  irrecoverable.  Nothing  is 
more  impossible  than  to  recall  past  time.  It  is  gone !  It 
is  gone  for  ever !  Yesterday  can  no  more  return  than  the 
years  before  the  flood.  Power,  wisdom,  tears,  entreaties, 
all  the  united  efforts  of  the  whole  universe  of  creatures 
can  never  cause  it  to  return.  Much  must  now  be  done  in 
a  little  time,  since  you  have  now  but  little  left.  You  have 
indeed  had  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  and  forty  precious  years ;  but, 
alas !  they  are  irrecoverably  lost.  And  may  not  this  thought 
startle  you,  and  cause  you  to  awake  out  of  sleep  ?  The 
loss  of  the  same  number  of  kingdoms  would  not  be  half 
so  great.  To  a  candidate  for  eternity,  whose  everlasting 
state  depends  upon  the  improvement  of  time,  a  year  is  of 
infinitely  greater  importance  than  a  kingdom  can  be  to  any 
of  the  sons  of  men. 

lY.  Consider  the  great  purposes  of  the  present  life  can 
be  answered  only  in  time ;  for  there  are  certain  important 
duties  peculiar  to  this  world,  which,  if  unperformed  here, 
must  remain  so  for  ever,  because  eternity  is  not  the  season 
for  them. 

Both  worlds  have  their  proper  business  allotted  them ; 
and  the  proper  business  of  the  one  cannot  be  done  in  the 
other.  Eternity  and  time  are  intended  for  quite  different 
purposes.  The  one  is  seed-time ;  the  other,  harvest :  the 
one  is  the  season  of  working ;  the  other,  for  receiving  the 
wages  :  and  if  we  invert  the  unchangeable  order  of  things, 
and  defer  the  business  of  life  till  after  death,  we  shall  find 
ourselves  miserably  mistaken.  Therefore,  if  saints  would 
be  of  service  to  mankind,  as  members  of  civil  or  religious 
society ;  and  particularly,  if  they  would  be  instrumental 
to  form  others  for  a  blessed  immortality,  and  save  souls 
from  death,  by  converting  sinners  from  the  error  of  their 
way ;  if  they  would  do  these  thiogs,  the  present  life  is  the 
only  time.  In  heaven  they  will  have  more  noble  emplo}^ 
These  things  must  now  be  done  or  never.  And  O !  what 
pious  heart  can  bear  the  thought  of  leaving  the  world 
while  these  are  undone  ?  When  once  death  has  laid  his 
cold  hand  upon  you,  you  are  for  ever  disabled  from  such 
services  as  these.  Then  farewell  to  all  opportunities  of 
usefulness,  in  the  manner  of  the  present  life.     Then,  even 


800  A   NEW   year's   gift. 

your  children  and  dearest  friends  may  run  on  in  sin,  and 
perish,  while  it  is  not  in  your  power  so  much  as  to  speak 
one  word  to  dissuade  them. 

Again :  if  sinners,  who  now  are  in  a  state  of  condemna- 
tion, would  escape  out  of  it ;  if  they  who  are  at  present 
slaves  to  sin,  would  become  sincere  converts  to  righteous- 
ness ;  if  they  would  use  the  means  of  grace  for  that  pur- 
pose, now  is  the  time.  There  is  none  of  this  work  in  hell : 
they  no  sooner  enter  into  the  eternal  world,  than  their 
state  will  be  unchangeably  and  eternally  fixed.  All  are 
]'ipe  for  eternity  before  they  are  removed  into  it :  the  good 
ripe  for  heaven,  and  wicked  ripe  for  hell;  the- one,  vessels 
of  mercy  afore-prepared  for  glory ;  and  the  other,  vessels 
of  wrath  fitted  for  destruction ;  and  therefore  they  must 
remain  for  ever  in  their  respective  mansions.  In  hell,  in- 
deed, sinners  repent ;  but  their  repentance  is  their  punish- 
ment, and  has  no  tendency  to  amend  or  save  them.  They 
mourn  and  weep ;  but  their  tears  are  but  oil  to  increase 
the  flame.  They  cry,  and  perhaps  pray ;  but  the  hour  of 
audience  and  acceptance  is  past — past  for  ever !  The 
means  of  grace  are  all  gone ;  the  sanctifying  influences  of 
the  Spirit  are  all  withdrawn  for  ever.  And  hence  they  will 
corrupt  and  putrefy  into  mere  masses  of  pure  unmingled 
wickedness  and  misery.  Sinners !  realize  this  thought, 
and  sure  it  must  rouse  you  out  of  sleep.  Trifle  on  a  little 
longer,  and  it  is  over  with  you;  spend  a  few  days  more 
as  you  have  spent  your  time  past,  and  you  Avill  be  ingulf- 
ed in  as  hopeless  misery  as  any  devil  in  hell.  Another 
year  now  meets  you,  and  invites  you  to  improve  it  to  pre- 
pare for  eternity ;  and  if  you  waste  it  like  the  past,  you 
may  be  undone  for  ever.  Therefore,  take  Solomon's  warn- 
ing, whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might; 
for  there  is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  ivisdom  in  the  grave, 
whither  you  are  going. 

These  considerations,  methinks,  must  have  some  weight, 
both  upon  slumbering  Christians  and  impenitent  sinners, 
to  persuade  them  to  awake  out  of  sleep.  I  now  proceed 
to  a  few  considerations  peculiar  to  each. 

Upon  slumbering  saints  I  would  again  try  the  force  of 
the  apostolic  consideration  in  my  text ;  awake,  for  7ww  is 
your  salvation  ^nearer  than  ivlien  you  believed.  Heaven  may 
be  only  at  the  distance  of  a  year  or  an  hour  from  you ;  it 
is,  however,  nearer  to-day  than  it  ever  was  before.     Is  not 


A  NEW   year's   gift.  301 

salvation  the  thing  you  have  been  longing  and  laboring 
for  ?  and  now  can  you  slumber  when  it  is  so  near  ?  can 
you  sleep  when  the  night  of  life  is  so  far  spent,  and  the 
day  of  eternity  is  ready  to  shine  around  you  ?  Can  you 
sleep  on  the  brink  of  eternity,  on  the  threshold  of  heaven  ? 

Some  of  you,  perhaps,  are  now  thinking,  "0!  if  I  were 
certain  my  salvation  is  so  near,  it  would  even  transport 
me,  and  inspire  me  with  flaming  zeal  and  unwearied  activ- 
ity. But,  alas !  I  am  afraid  of  a  disappointment.  It  is 
true,  I  cannot  but  entertain  some  humble  hope,  which  the 
severest  trial  cannot  overthrow.  But  0  !  what  if  I  should 
be  mistaken !  This  jealousy  makes  me  tremble,  and  shrink 
back  from  the  prospect." 

This  may  be  the  case  of  many  an  honest  soul.  But  can 
this  be  pleaded  as  a  reason  or  excuse  for  security  ?  Alas ! 
can  you  sleep  in  such  a  dreadful  suspense  ?  sleep,  while 
you  are  uncertain  what  shall  become  of  you  through  an 
endless  duration  ?  If  you  have  not  the  sure  prospect  of 
salvation  to  awaken  you,  methinks  the  fear  of  damnation 
must  effectually  do  it ;  for  it  is  certain  one  or  the  other  is 
near  you ;  therefore  endeavor,  by  severe  self-examination, 
to  push  this  matter  to  some  certain  issue.  Eesolve  that 
you  will  not  spend  another  day,  much  less  another  year, 
in  a  state  of  such  dangerous,  alarming  uncertainty.  If  this 
point  is  not  yet  determined,  it  is  certainly  high  time  for 
you  to  awake  out  of  sleep. 

Consider,  further,  how  far  your  religious  improvements 
have  come  short  of  your  own  resolutions  and  expectations, 
as  well  as  your  obligations.  Ye  happy  souls,  who  now 
enjoy  a  good  hope  through  grace,  recollect  the  time  when 
you  were  in  a  very  different  and  more  melancholy  condi- 
tion; the  time  when  your  spirits  bled  with  a  thousand 
wounds ;  when  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  set  themselves  in 
array  against  you,  and  the  thunders  of  Sinai  rung  the 
most  alarming  peals  in  your  astonished  ears ;  when  the 
arrows  of  God  stuck  fast  in  you,  and  the  poison  of  them 
drank  up  your  spirits ;  when  guilt  lay  heavy  upon  your 
consciences,  and  you  sunk  down  into  the  depth  of  despond- 
ency ;  0 !  what  were  then  your  vows  and  resolutions,  if 
it  should  please  God  to  deliver  you?  Did  you  then  expect 
you  would  fall  asleep  so  soon  after  your  deliverance  ?  Ee- 
collect  also  the  happy  hour  when  the  face  of  a  reconciled 
God  first  smiled  upon  you,  when  Jesus  appeared  to  your 

26 


o02  A   NEW   year's   gift. 

souls  in  all  tlie  attractive  glories  of  a  Saviour;  when  he 
delivered  your  soul  from  death,  your  feet  from  falling,  and 
your  eyes  from  tears  ;  O !  what  were  then  your  thoughts 
and  resolutions?  how  firmly  did  you  bind  yourselves  to 
be  his  servants  for  ever !  But  how  soon,  alas !  did  you  be- 
gin to  slumber!  How  far  short  have  you  fallen  of  your 
vows  and  promises !  Recollect  also  what  were  your  expect- 
ations at  that  memorable  time.  O !  would  you  then  have 
believed  it,  that  in  the  space  of  ten  or  twenty  years  you 
would  have  made  such  small  progress  in  your  heavenly 
course,  as  you  have  in  fact  done  ?  And  can  you  bear  the 
thought  of  slumbering  on  still  ?  O !  shall  this  year  pass  by 
like  the  former  ?     Sure  you  cannot  bear  the  thought. 

Let  me  conclude  my  address  to  you  with  this  advice : 
Begin  this  year  by  dedicating  yourselves  afresh  to  God; 
take  some  hour  of  retirement — this  evening,  or  as  soon  as 
you  can  redeem  the  time.  Call  yourselves  to  account  for  the 
year  past,  and  all  3^our  life.  Examine  yourselves  both  as 
to  the  reality  of  your  religion,  and  as  to  your  proficiency 
in  it.  Conclude  the  whole  by  casting  yourselves  anew 
upon  Jesus  Christ,  and  devoting  yourselves  for  this  new 
year  entirely  to  him. 

Let  me  now  address  a  few  considerations  to  impenitent 
sinners.  Consider  what  a  dreadful  risk  you  run  by  neg- 
lecting the  present  time.  The  longer  you  indulge  your- 
selves in  sin,  the  harder  it  will  be  to  break  off  from  it ; 
and  do  you  not  then  run  the  risk  of  cementing  an  eternal 
union  with  that  deadly  evil  ?  The  longer  you  cherish  a 
wicked  temper,  the  stronger  the  habits  of  sin  will  grow. 
And  are  you  not  in  danger  of  becoming  eternal  slaves  to 
it  ?  The  more  you  sin  against  God,  and  grieve  his  Spirit, 
the  more  you  provoke  him  to  withhold  the  influences  of 
his  grace,  and  in  righteous  judgment  to  give  you  up.  And 
dare  you  run  so  dreadful  a  risk  as  this  ?  Alas !  the  day 
of  your  visitation  may  be  drawing  fast  towards  evening, 
when  the  things  that  belong  to  your  peace  tvill  he  eternally  hid 
from  your  eyes. 

Let  me  deal  plainly  and  without  reserve  with  3'ou,  on  a 
point  too  dangerous  to  allow  of  flattery.  If  you  do  not 
awake  and  turn  your  attention  to  the  concerns  of  your 
souls,  it  is  but  too  probable  you  will  go  on  in  carnal  secu- 
rity, and  at  last  perish  for  ever.  Blessed  be  God,  this  is 
not  certain,  and  therefore  you  have  no  reason  to  despair; 


A  NEW  year's  gift.  303 

but  it  is  really  too  probable,  and  tlierefore  you  have  great 
reason  to  fear.  This  alarming  probability,  inethinks,  must 
force  its  evidence  upon  your  minds,  upon  principles  you 
cannot  reasonably  dispute.  You  have  lived  twenty,  thirty, 
or  forty  years,  or  more,  in  the  world.  In  this  time  you 
have  enjoyed  the  same  means  of  grace  which  you  can  ex- 
pect in  time  to  come.  You  had  done  less  to  provoke  the 
great  Grod  to  cast  you  off;  your  sinful  habits  were  not  so 
strong ;  you  were  not  so  much  hardened  through  the  de- 
ceitfalness  of  sin ;  and  the  longer  you  live  in  this  condi- 
tion, the  more  discouraging  it  will  grow.  The  most  hope- 
ful part  of  your  life  is  over  with  you ;  and  yet  even  in 
that  you  were  not  brought  to  repentance.  How  much  less 
likely  is  it  then,  that  you  will  be  converted  in  time  to 
come? 

Suffer  me  to  tell  you  plainly  that  I  cannot  but  tremble 
for  some  of  you.  1  am  really  afraid  some  of  you  will 
perish  for  ever  ;  and  the  ground  of  my  fear  is  this  :  The 
most  generous  charity  cannot  but  conclude  that  some  of 
you  are  impenitent  sinners ;  your  temper  and  conduct  pro- 
claim it  aloud ;  and  it  is  very  unlikely,  all  things  considered, 
that  you  will  be  ever  otherwise.  Since  you  have  not  re- 
pented in  the  most  promising  season  of  life,  it  is  much  to 
be  feared  you  will  not  repent  in  the  less  promising  part  of 
it.  And  since  no  impenitent,  unholy  sinner  can  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  it  is  much  to  be  feared  you  will 
perish  for  ever ;  not  because  the  mercy  of  God  or  the  merit 
of  Christ  is  insuf&cient  to  save  you,  if  you  apply  to  him  for 
it,  according  to  the  terms  of  the  gospel ;  not  because  your 
case  is  in  itself  hopeless,  if  you  would  awake  out  of  sleep, 
and  seek  the  Lord  in  earnest ;  but  because  it  is  too  likely 
you  will  go  on  careless  and  secure,  as  you  have  done,  and 
persist  in  it,  till  all  your  time  is  gone,  and  then  your  case 
will  be  desperate.  I  honestly  warn  you  of  your  danger, 
which  is  too  great  to  be  concealed.  And  yet  I  give  you 
sufficient  encouragement  to  fly  from  it,  while  I  assure  you, 
that  if  you  now  lay  your  condition  to  heart,  and  earnestly 
use  all  proper  means  for  your  conversion,  you  have  the 
utmost  reason  to  hope  for  success,  as  much  reason  as  the 
saints  now  in  heaven  once  had  when  in  your  condition. 

Therefore,  now,  sinners,  awake  out  of  sleep.  Instead  of 
entering  upon  this  new  year  with  carousals  and  extrava- 
gances, consecrate  it  to  the  great  purposes  for  which  it  is 


304  A  NEW  yeak's  gift. 

given  you,  by  engaging  in  earnest  in  the  great  work  of 
your  salvation.  What  meanest  thou,  0  sleeper  f  Arise,  call 
■upon  thy  God,  if  so  he  lie  loill  think  upon  thee,  that  thou 
perish  not. 

Consider,  this  year  may  lay  you  low  in  the  dust  of  death. 
How  many  are  now  in  the  grave  who  saw  the  last  new 
year's  day  !  And  though  I  cannot  point  out  the  persons, 
yet,  without  a  spirit  of  prophecy,  I  may  venture  to  foretell 
that  some  of  us  will  be  in  heaven  or  hell  before  this  year 
performs  its  round ;  some  gray  head  or  some  sprightly 
youth ;  perha|)s  you ;  or  perhaps  I.  And  since  none  of  us 
know  who  it  shall  be,  none  of  us  are  exempted  from  the 
necessity  of  immediate  preparation.  0  !  that  we  may  be 
all  so  wise  as  to  consider  our  latter  end. 

I  beg  leave  of  my  promiscuous  auditory  to  employ  a  few 
minutes  in  addressing  myself  to  my  important  family,  whom 
my  paternal  affection  would  always  single  out  from  the 
rest,  even  when  I  am  speaking  in  general  terms  to  a  mixed 
crowd.  Therefore,  my  dear  charge,  my  pupils,  my  chil- 
dren, and  every  tender  and  endearing  name  !  Ye  young 
immortals,  ye  embryo-angels  or  infant-fiends,  ye  blooming, 
lovely,  fading  flowers  of  human  nature,  the  hope  of  your 
parents  and  friends,  of  church  and  state,  the  hope,  joy,  and 
glory  of  your  teachers  !  hear  one  that  loves  you  ;  one  that 
has  nothing  to  do  in  the  world  but  to  promote  your  best 
interest ;  one  that  would  account  this  the  greatest  blessing 
he  could  enjoy  in  his  pilgrimage,  and  whose  nights  and  days 
are  sometimes  made  almost  equally  restless  by  his  affection- 
ate anxieties  for  you ;  hear  him  upon  a  subject  in  which 
you  are  most  intimately  interested — a  subject  the  most  im- 
portant that  even  an  apostle  or  an  angel  could  address  you 
upon  ;  and  that  is,  the  right  improvement  of  time,  the  pres- 
ent time,  and  preparation  for  eternity.  I  make  no  doubt 
but  you  will  all  look  upon  religion  as  an  object  worthy  of 
your  notice.  You  all  believe  heaven  and  hell  are  not  ma- 
jestic chimeras,  or  fairy  lands,  but  the  most  important 
realities ;  and  that  you  must  in  a  little  time  be  the  residents 
of  the  one  or  the  other.  It  cannot,  therefore,  be  a  question 
with  any  of  you,  whether  you  shall  mind  religion  at  all ! 
On  that  you  are  all  determined.  But  the  question  is.  What 
is  the  most  proper  time  for  it  ?  Whether  the  present  or 
some  uncertain  hereafter?  And  in  what  order  you  should 
attend  to  it,  whether  in  the  first  place,  and  above  all,  even 


A   NEW   YEAK'S   GIFT.  oUD 

in  your  early  days  ?  or  whether  you  should  not  rather  in- 
dulge yourselves  in  the  pleasures  of  youth  for  some  time, 
and  then  make  religion  the  dull  business  of  old  age.     If 
any  of  you  hesitate  upon  this  point,  it  may  be  easily  solved. 
This  is  the  most  convenient,  promising  season  for  this  pur- 
pose that  you  are  likely  to  see ;  never  will  you  live  more 
free  from  care,  or  more  remote  from  temptation.     When 
you  launch  out  into  the  noise,  and  bustle,  and  hurry,  and 
company,  and  business,  and  vice  of  the  world,  you  will 
soon  find  the  scene  changed  for  the  worse.     Therefore,  now, 
my  dear  youth,  now  in  this  inviting  season,  awake  out  of 
sleep  ;  awake  to  righteousness  and  sin  not.     I  beg  you 
would  not  now  commit  sin  with  a  design  to  repent  of  it 
afterwards ;  for  can  you  be  so  foolish,  as  knowingly  and 
deliberately  to  do  that  which  you  explicitly  intend  to  re- 
pent of? — that  is,  to  do  that  which  you  intend  to  wish  un- 
done, and  to  lament  with  broken  hearts  that  you  ever  did 
it.     Can  Bedlam  itself  parallel  the  folly  of  this  ?     O !  take 
warning  from  the  fate  of  your  wretched  predecessors  in 
this  course.     Could  you  ask  the  crowds  of  lost  ghosts  who 
are  now  suffering  the  punishment  of  their  sin,  whether 
they  intended  to  persist  impenitent  in  it  and  perish,  they 
would  all  answer,  that  they  either  vainly  flattered  them- 
selves they  had  repented  already,  or  intended  to  repent  be- 
fore they  died ;  but  death  seized  them  unawares,  and  put 
an  end  to  all  their  sanguine  hopes.    Young  sinners  among 
them  imagined  they  should  not  die  till  old  age ;  and  old 
age  itself  thought  it  might  hold  out  a  few  days  longer,  and 
that  it  was  time  enough  to  repent.     But,  O !  they  have 
now  discovered  their  error,  when  it  is  too  late  to  correct  it. 
Therefore,  do  not  harbor  one  thought  of  putting  off  repent- 
ance to  a  sick  bed  or  to  old  age ;  that  is  the  most  inconve- 
nient and  desperate  season  in  your  whole  life  ;  and  if  you 
fix  upon  this,  one  would  think  you  had  reviewed  your 
whole  life  on  purpose  to  find  out  the  most  unfit  and  dis- 
couraging period  of  it  for  the  most  necessar}^,  difficult,  and 
important  work  in  the  world.     Come,  then,  now  devote 
yourselves  to  God,  and  away  with  all  excuses  and  delays. 
Remember,  that  upon  the  principles  I  have  laid  down, — 
principles  that  must  gain  your  assent  by  the  force  of  their 
own  evidence ;  I  sa}^,  remember  that  upon  these  principles  it 
is  extremely  likely  you  will  always  persist  impenitent  in 
sin,  and  perish  for  ever,  if  you  waste  away  the  present  sea- 


806  A  TIME   OF   UNUSUAL   SICKNESS 

son  of  youth,  destitute  of  vital  religion.  You  may  every 
day  have  less  and  less  hope  of  yourselves ;  and  can  you 
bear  the  thought  of  perishing  for  ever  ?  Are  your  hearts 
so  soon  arrived  to  such  a  pitch  of  hardiness,  as  to  be  proof 
against  the  terrors  of  the  prospect  ?  It  cannot  be ;  for  lolio 
among  us  can  dwell  with  the  devouring  firef  Who  among  us 
can  divell  loith  everlasting  burning  ?  As  for  such  of  you 
as  have  not  the  great  work  to  begin,  I  have  only  this  to 
say,  Be  steadfast,  immovable,  always  abounding  in  the  work  of 
the  Lord,  forasmuch»as  yehnow  that  your  labor  is  not  in  vain 
in  the  Lord. — 1  Cor.  xv.  58. 


■»  ♦» 


XXX. 

A  TIME  OF  UNUSUAL  SICKNESS  AND  MORTALITY  IMPROVED. 

"  O  Lord,  are  not  thine  eyes  upon  the  truth  ?  Thou  hast  stricken  them,  but 
they  have  not  grieved ;  thou  hast  consumed  them,  but  they  have  refused  to 
receive  correction.  They  have  made  their  faces  harder  than  a  rock  ;  they 
have  refused  to  return." — Jeremiah^  v.  3. 

My  Fellow-Mortals  !  So  I  call  you,  because  mortality 
is  the  certain  doom  of  us  all.  This  is  a  truth  at  all  times 
evident ;  but  now,  methinks,  it  is  more  striking  than  usual 
when  death  has  made  such  ravages  among  us ;  when  it  has 
made  breaches  upon  sundry  of  our  families,  and  swept  off 
some  of  them  almost  entirely  ;  and  when  we  who  survive 
are  in  daily  expectation  of  a  visit  from  this  tremendous 
conqueror.  Therefore,  my  dear  fellow-mortals  !  under  this 
character  would  I  address  you  this  day — as  a  mortal  whose 
breath  may  be  stopped  the  next  day,  or  the  next  hour ;  I 
would  speak  with  more  seriousness  than,  alas !  is  usual  to 
me,  to  you,  mortals,  about  the  concerns  of  immortality  !* 
If  I  should  do  any  thing  to  save  myself  and  them  that  hear 
me,  I  see  I  must  do  it  quickly.     I  have  for  some  time  been 

*  Mr.  Baxter  was  wont  to  say : 

"  I  preach  as  if  I  ne'er  should  preach  again, 
And  as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men." 

And  oh,  that  I  may  imbibe  the  same  spirit,  and  enter  the  pulpit  always 
under  its  influence ! 


AND   MORTALITY   IMPROVED.  307 

languishing  and  indisposed  myself,  and  the  contagious 
disease  made  its  entrance  into  my  family ;  but,  through  the 
amazing  and  distinguishing  kindness  of  God,  which  I  de- 
sire publicly  to  celebrate,  and,  I  hope,  in  answer  to  prayer, 
its  progress  has  been  stopped.  And  what  better  return 
can  I  make  to  my  gracious  Deliverer,  than  to  devote  this 
life,  which  he  has  spared,  to  his  glory  and  the  service  of 
your  souls,  with  increasing  zeal  and  industry  ?  The  blind 
and  secure  world  has  accused  me  of  making  too  much  ado 
about  religion  ;  and  when  my  mind  is  impressed  with  real- 
izing views  of  death  and  the  supreme  tribunal,  I  cannot 
'but  accuse  myself;  but,  oh !  it  is  upon  a  very  different  ac- 
count. I  never  feel  one  uneasy  thought  from  the  excess  of 
my  zeal,  or  from  the  review  of  those  few  solemn  hours 
when  I  have  delivered  the  messages  of  God  to  you  with 
such  pathos  and  earnestness  that  the  world  may  have 
thought  me  mad.  I  am  more  sensible  than  usual  that  I 
must  work  while  the  day  of  life  lasts ;  for  oh !  it  is  short 
and  uncertain ;  and  the  night  of  death  is  coming,  when  I 
cannot  work.  I  have  little  time  to  labor  for  my  divine 
Master;  but  little  time  to  warn,  instruct,  and  edify  my  dear 
hearers.  Therefore,  now,  while  my  mouth  is  not  silent  in 
the  dust,  I  would  address  you  with  the  utmost  earnestness 
and  solemnity. 

But  this  is  not  the  only  reason  for  improving  the  present 
time.  As  I  am  mortal  myself,  so  are  my  dear  people ; 
they  are  dying  fast  around  me,  and  dropping  into  the  grave 
from  my  hands.  About  twenty  that  were  wont  to  mingle 
with  us  in  this  assembly,  and  to  hear  the  word  from  my  lips, 
have  been  hurried  into  the  eternal  world  in  a  few  days. 
They  have  now  passed  the  grand  decisive  trial ;  their  state  of 
probation  is  over,  and  an  irrevocable  sentence  has  fixed  their 
eternal  state  in  the  mansions  of  glory  or  misery !  These 
I  have  done  with  for  ever.  ISTo  more  can  I  labor  to  warn 
and  convince  them — no  more  can  I  comfort  and  edify  them 
— no  more  can  I  denounce  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  against 
their  sin,  nor  ofter  the  blessing  of  the  gospel  to  their  ac- 
ceptance !  Farewell,  then,  to  these  our  friends  and  neigh- 
bors— farewell,  till  we  all  meet  in  one  vast  assembly  before 
the  supreme  tribunal!  Bat,  blessed  be  God,  all  my  dear 
people  are  not  yet  swept  off  from  the  land  of  the  living! 
Here  is  a  goodly  number,  as  yet  in  a  state  of  trial  for  that 
strange  world,  whither  our  brethren  have  taken  their  flight. 


308  A   TIME   OF    UNUSUAL   SICKNESS 

Hero  is  a  goodly  number  who  can  still  hear  the  gospel  of 
peace,  and  who  are  still  interested  to  hear  it,  and  who, 
unless  they  hear  it  in  time,  must  soon  be  miserable  for  ever! 
And  why,  then,  should  you  not  all  hear  it  with  the  most 
solemn  attention  and  seriousness  ?  Why,  brethren,  should 
you  not  hear  it  so  that  your  souls  may  live  ? 

I  shall  endeavor  to  show  you  what  good  effects  afflictions 
should  have  upon  us,  especially  upon  impenitent  sinners. 
This  my  text  naturally  leads  me  to  ;  for  though,  in  express 
terms,  it  only  contains  a  complaint  of  the  misimprovement 
of  afflictions,  or  incorrigibleness  under  them,  yet  this  very 
plainly  points  out  the  right  improvement  of  them.  When 
it  is  said,  "  Lord,  thou  hast  stricken  them,  but  they  were 
not  grieved,"  this  implies  that  they  should  have  been 
grieved — grieved  for  their  undutiful  conduct  towards  God, 
which  has  exposed  them  to  the  scourges  of  his  rod — grieved 
with  a  godly  sorrow,  with  kindly,  generous  relentings  for 
sin,  as  against  God,  and  not  merely  as  tending  to  ruin 
themselves.  Ingenuous  sorrow,  shame,  and  repentance ;  a 
submissive  temper,  and  a  sincere  conversion  to  God,  are 
the  effects  which  alllictions  should  have  upon  us,  according 
to  my  text.  Indeed,  I  know  no  more  convictive  method 
of  showing  Avhat  it  is  to  misimprove  afflictions,  and  to  be 
incorrigible  under  them,  than  to  show  positively  what  it  is 
to  make  a  right  use  of  them,  or  what  are  their  proper 
effects  when  sanctified ;  for  if  you  find  they  have  not  had 
such  effects  upon  you,  you -may  be  sure  you  have  refused 
to  receive  correction. 

I  shall  include  all  I  have  to  say  concerning  the  right  im- 
provement of  afflictions  under  this  simple  inquiry — What 
is  it  to  turn  to  the  Lord?  to  which  the  other  expressions 
contained  in  my  text  may  be  reduced. 

First,  turning  to  God  presupposes  a  deep  conviction 
that  you  have  gone  astray,  both  from  the  way  of  duty  and 
the  way  of  safety.  You  never  wdll  leave  3^our  present 
course  till  you  plainly  see  that  it  leads  down  to  the  cham- 
bers of  death.  You  never  will  turn  to  the  Lord  till  you 
are  sensible  you  are  under  the  most  pressing,  absolute  ne- 
cessity to  do  so,  both  from  duty  and  interest.  O !  sirs,  if 
it  should  please  God  to  open  the  eyes  of  unconverted  sin- 
ners among  you  this  day,  what  strange,  unsuspected,  and 
astonishing  views  would  open  to  you  concerning  your 
}jast  and  present  course  and  condition  !    Then,  to  your  sur- 


AND   MORTALITY   IMPROVED.  809 

prise,  you  would  see  that  you  have  lived  so  many  years  in 
the  world  without  so  much  as  earnestly  attempting  that 
work,  which  is  the  great  business  of  your  life.  You  would 
see  that  your  hopes  of  heaven  in  your  present  condition 
are  but  a  delusive  dream,  and  that  you  are  every  moment 
in  the  utmost  danger  of  sinking  into  the  depth  of  misery, 
under  the  heavy  wrath  of  Almighty  God.  You  would 
see  that  you  have  not  such  hearts  as  you  once  flattered 
yourselves  you  had,  but  that  they  are  deceitful  and  des- 
perately wicked.  You  would  see  that  they  are,  and  always 
«  have  been,  destitute  of  the  reality  of  all  the  Christian 
graces,  and  have  imposed  upon  you  hitherto  with  counter- 
feits and  deceitful  appearances;  destitute  of  true  repent- 
ance, faith,  and  love  towards  God  and  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
full  of  pride,  hypocrisy,  ignorance,  hardness  of  heart,  dis- 
affection to  God  and  his  government,  unbelief,  earthly- 
mi  ndedness,  sensuality,  sordid  and  wicked  lusts  and  pas- 
sions, and  an  endless  variety  of  evils.  This  would,  no 
doubt,  be  a  surprising,  unexpected  discovery  to  some  of 
you ;  you  have  no  such  thoughts  of  yourselves,  but  quite 
the  contrary.  But  the  reason  why  you  do  not  see  this 
to  be  your  case,  in  fact,  is  because  the  god  of  this  world 
has  blinded  your  minds,  and  because  your  treacherous 
hearts  flatter  you.  This  is,  indeed,  the  truth  of  your  case, 
while  unconverted,  if  you  believe  the  plainest  declarations 
of  the  word  of  God.  But,  O !  the  astonishing  ignorance 
and  self- flattery  of  the  heart  of  man !  Here,  alas!  lies  the 
difficulty  in  dealing  with  unconverted  sinners !  We  cannot 
open  their  eyes  to  see  their  guilt  and  danger.  Could  we 
do.  this,  a  grand  point  would  be  gained,  and  t^e  work  would 
be  well  begun.  But,  alas !  they  will  not  believe  they  are 
so  guilty,  so  vile  and  corrupt ;  and  hence  the  gospel,  which 
is  a  religion  for  self-condemned,  broken-hearted  sinners,  is 
but  an  idle  tale  or  a  vain  speculation  to  them ;  and  to  in- 
vite them  to  come  to  Christ,  is  but  to  invite  the  whole  to  a 
physician. 

Further,  if  it  should  please  God  to  bring  you  out  of 
darkness  this  day  into  his  marvelous  light,  then  you  would 
also  see  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin.  You  would  see 
it  is  not  that  harmless,  innocent  thing,  or  that  slight  ex- 
cusable foible,  you  once  took  it  to  be  ;  but  that  it  is  indeed 
the  most  abominable  thing,  the  most  terrible,  base,  and 
malignant  evil  u])on  earth  or  in  hell.     Then,  instead  of 


810  A  TIME   OF   UNUSUAL  SICKNESS 

wondering  that  such  a  thing  should  be  punished  with  ever- 
lasting destruction  by  a  gracious  God,  the  parent  of  man- 
kind ;  and  instead  of  disputing  yourselves  into  doubts 
about  it,  or  caviling  at  it  as  cruel  and  unjust — instead  of 
this,  I  say,  you  would  rather  wonder  that  so  dreadful  an 
evil  could  be  pardoned  at  all,  upon  any  consideration  what- 
soever ;  and  you  would  be  'more  apt  to  question  the  possibility 
of  forgiveness,  than  the  justice  of  punishment.  I  really  want 
words  to  express  the  views  and  apprehensions  you  would 
then  have  of  things.  0  that  experience  rnay  be  your 
teacher !  Blessed  be  God,  I  have  seen  and  conversed  with 
many  a  sinner  formerly,  upon  their  first  receiving  this  con- 
viction; formerly,  I  say,  for  alas!  now-a-days,  I  hardly 
meet  with  one  to  converse  with  me  upon  this  subject.  No; 
the  generality  have  no  such  alarming  views  of  themselves ; 
like  the  Laodiceans,  they  are  "rich  in  their  own  conceit; 
and  know  not  that  they  are  wretched,  and  miserable,  and 
poor,  and  blind,  and  naked."  But  formerly,  it  has  been 
my  happy  employ  to  instruct  such  convinced  sinners ;  and 
I  can  still  remember,  it  was  a  very  affecting  conversation. 
Their  language  still  seems  to  sound  in  my  ears ;  and  me- 
thinks  I  hear  them  complaining  in  a  flood  of  tears,  "  Oh ! 
what  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  I  see  I  am  upon  the  brink  of 
destruction ;  I  see  I  have  been  all  my  life  a  poor  deceived, 
self- flattering  sinner.  Oh !  I  never  thought  I  was  such  a 
monster  of  wickedness,  and  upon  the  slippery  brink  of 
eternal  ruin ;  but  now  I  see  it ;  now  it  is  so  evident  to  me, 
that  I  am  amazed  I  never  discovered  it  before.  Oh !  is 
there  any  possibility  of  escape  for  such  a  condemned 
wretch  as  I  ?  ^  Let  me  know  what  is  necessary  and  I  will 
attempt  any  thing,  if  I  may  but  get  my  perishing  soul  for 
a  prey."  These  are  the  affecting  strains  of  awakened  sin- 
ners. This  must  be  your  language,  sinners,  or  at  least  the 
thoughts  of  your  hearts,  before  you  can  turn  unto  the 
Lord.  But,  oh !  when  shall  we  hear  it  from  you  ?  To 
teach  you  this  lesson,  your  neighbors,  or  perhaps  your 
parent,  your  child,  or  some  of  your  relatives  have  died ; 
and  shall  they  die  in  vain?  Oh!  hear  them  as  it  were 
crying  to  you  from  the  dust.  Some  of  you  have  lost  pious 
friends,  who  during  their  life  labored  to  awaken  you  out 
of  your  security.  And  when  you  view  their  grave,  me- 
thinks  you  may  recollect  the  epitaph  which  a  minister 
wrote  for  his  own  tombstone: 


AND   MOKTALITY   IMPKOVED.  311 

"  If  all  my  life  I  tried  in  vain  to  save, 
Hear  me,  oh !  hear  me,  ciying  from  the  grave." 

But,  alas !  I  know  that  even  this  alarming  voice  will  not 
awaken  impenitent  sinners,  unless  God  bear  it  home  to 
their  hearts  by  his  almighty  power.  And  O !  that  that 
divine  agent  would  begin  to  work  among  us !  Then,  sin- 
ners, you  would  soon  see  that  the  account  I  have  been 
giving  you  of  your  guilt  and  danger  is  not  at  all  ex- 
aggerated. 

Secondly,  turning  to  God  supposes  a  full  conviction  of 
the  necessity  of  turning  to  him  immediately,  without  delay. 
Brethren,  if  God  should  begin  this  work  upon  your  hearts 
this  day,  you  would  no  longer  stand  hesitating  and  loiter- 
ing. We  should  no  more  hear  from  you  that  there  is  no 
need  of  so  much  ado,  or  that  it  is  time  enough  as  yet. 
You  would  have  such  clear  views  of  your  own  vileness, 
and  the  disaffection  of  your  souls  to  God  and  holiness,  that 
nothing  could  be  more  evident  to  you  than  that  you  are 
utterly  unfit  for  heaven,  in  your  present  condition,  and  that 
you  are  fitted  for  destruction  and  nothing  else.  You  would 
not  stand  disputing,  and  hoping,  and  flattering  yourselves 
in  the  matter,  but  you  would  come  to  this  peremptory  con- 
clusion, "  If  I  continue  in  my  present  condition,  I  am  as 
certainly  lost  for  ever,  as  ever  as  I  was  born ;  I  shall  as 
surely  be  in  hell  in  a  little  time,  as  I  am  now  upon  earth. 
The  matter  will  admit  of  no  doubt."  This,  sirs,  is  a  very 
alarming  conclusion ;  and  you  may  be  very  unwilling  to 
admit  it ;  but  terrible  as  it  is,  you  will  be  forced  to  believe 
it,  if  ever  you  b»  converted.  It  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  first 
steps  towards  your  conversion. 

But  this  is  not  all :  you  will  be  not  only  convinced  of 
the  absolute  necessity  of  turning  to  God  in  general,  but  of 
turning  to  him  immediately  without  delay.  You  will  see 
that  you  are  so  far  from  having  time  to  delay,  that  it  will 
wound  your  heart  to  think  this  work  was  not  done 
many  years  ago.  itou  will  see  that  having  delayed  it  so 
long  already  was  the  most  desperate  madness  in  the  world, 
and  that  if  you  put  it  oft'  any  longer  you  may  be  lost  beyond 
recovery ;  for,  O !  you  will  see  you  stand  in  slippery  places, 
ready  to  be  cast  down  into  destruction  every  moment. 
You  will  apprehend  yourselves  held  over  the  pit  of  hell, 
in  the  hand  of  an  angry  God,  by  the  slender  thread  of  life, 
just  as  we  hold  a  spider,  or  some  poisonous  insect  over  a 


312  A  TIME   OF   UNUSUAL  SICKNESS 

fire,  ready  to  throw  it  in  immediately.  Now  while  I  am 
speaking  to  you,  you  would  immediately  set  about  tliis 
great  work :  you  would  pray  and  hear  at  once.  And  upon 
your  returning  home,  instead  of  trifling,  and  chattering 
about  the  world,  you  would  retire  to  cry  for  mercy,  and 
meditate  upon  your  miserable  condition — you  would  fly  to 
your  bibles,  and  other  good  books  for  direction ;  and  I 
should  expect  the  pleasure  once  more  of  seeing  you  come 
to  your  poor  minister,  anxiously  inquiring  what  you  shall 
do  to  be  saved.  0  !  when  will  the  crowds  of  unconverted 
sinners  among  us  be  brought  to  this?  When  will  they 
give  over  their  delays,  and  see  they  must  engage  in  this 
great  business  immediately  ?  I  am  sure  the  sickness  and 
mortality  among  us  have  a  tendency  to  bring  them  to  this. 
Can  you  imagine  that  conversion  may  be  put  off  to  some 
future  time,  when  you  see  so  many  in  health  and  youth 
around  you  seized  with  sickness,  and  hurried  into  the  grave 
in  a  few  days  ?  This  has  been  the  doom  of  sundry  vigor- 
ous youth,  and  even  of  little  children  among  us  ;  and  my 
dear  surviving'  youth  and  children,  shall  this  be  no  warn- 
ing to  you  ?  Alas !  will  you  dare  to  sin  on  still  as  thought- 
less as  ever?  Will  you  any  more  pretend  that  you  may 
safely  delay  your  conversion  to  a  sick-bed  or  a  dying  hour  ? 
But  ask  those  that  have  made  the  trial,  and  what  do  they 
say  ?  Do  any  of  them  tell  you  that  this  is  the  proper  time 
for  this  work  ?  What  do  sinners  say  when  the  time  comes  ? 
"  Oh !"  they  cry  out,  "  what  a  fool  was  I  to  put  it  off  till 
now !  oh,  how  bitterly  do  I  now  repent  that  I  did  not 
attempt  it  sooner!"  What  do  those  say  A^ho  made  it  their 
business  in  health  and  prosperity  ?  Do  they  repent  of  it 
as  premature?  No;  they  all  cry  out,  "I  should  be  in  a 
sad  case,  indeed,  if  it  were  left  undone  till  now ;  now  I 
have  enough  to  do  to  struggle  with  my  pains.  But,  blessed 
be  God,  that  work  is  not  now  to  be  done !"  If  the  declara- 
tion of  dying  men  have  any  weight  or  credibiUty,  the  pres- 
ent time  is  the  most  fit  season ;  therefore,  oh !  improve  it 
while  you  have  it.     But, 

Thirdly,  if  afflictions  should  prove  the  happy  means  of 
turning  you  to  God,  they  will  rouse  you.to  the  most  earnest, 
persevering  endeavors.  You  would  immediately  set  about 
the  work,  and  use  all  the  means  God  has  instituted  for  that 
purpose.  You  would  pray  without  ceasing;  you  would 
pray  in  secret  places ;  and  if  you  hitherto  had  prayer  less 


AND   MORTALITY   IMPROVED.  313 

families,  tliey  should  be  so  no  more ;  you  would  consecrate 
them  to  God  with  prayer  this  evening.  You  will  also 
accustom  yourselves  to  deep  and  solemn  meditation.  You 
will  seriously  attend  to  the  gospel  and  its  ordinances. 
Your  bibles  will  no  longer  gather  dust  by  you ;  but  you 
will  find  use  for  them — there  you  will  eagerly  search  for 
the  words  of  eternal  life.  You  will  also  love  and  frequent 
the  society  of  those  who,  you  hope,  have  experienced  that 
happy  change  you  are  seeking  after ;  and  you  will  catch 
all  the  instruction  you  can  from  their  conversation.  Oh ! 
sirs,  if  such  a  concern  to  turn  to  the  Lord  should  spread 
among  us,  how  would  it  change  the  aspect  of  things? 
How  different  would  be  the  desires,  the  labors,  the  pur- 
suits, and  conversation  of  mankind!  Believe  me,  sirs, 
there  is  need  of  such  an  alteration  among  us ;  and  woe, 
woe  to  many  of  us,  if  things  run  on  as  they  have  done — 
if  the  world  continue  to  usurp  the  pre-eminence  of  God 
and  eternal  things — if  you  are  still  more  solicitous  to  lay 
up  earthly  treasure  than  to  lay  up  treasure  in  heaven. 
Need  I  tell  you  that  you  shall  not  live  here  always,  to  en- 
joy the  things  of  this  world?  Go,  and  learn  this  truth  at 
the  graves  of  your  friends  and  neighbors.  Need  you  be 
told  that  the  enjoyments  of  this  life  are  no  suitable  happi- 
ness of  your  immortal  souls  ?  Do  you  not  learn  it  from 
the  uncertain,  transitory  nature  of  these  enjoyments  ?  You 
can  carry  none  of  them  with  you  to  the  eternal  home ;  and 
what  then  will  you  have  to  make  you  happy  there  ? 

Further ;  as  you  will  zealously  use  all  endeavors  to  pro- 
mote your  conversion,  as  you  will  carefully  guard  against 
every  thing  that  tends  to  hinder  it,  you  will  immediately 
drop  your  wicked  courses — you  will  have  done  for  ever 
with  drinking,  swearing,  and  all  the  vices  you  were  wont 
to  practice — you  will  moderate  your  pursuit  of  the  world, 
and  endeavor  to  disengage  yourselves  from  successive  hur- 
ries, which  allow  you  neither  leisure  nor  composure  to 
mind  the  great  business  of  your  salvation — that  business, 
which,  whether  you  regard  it  or  not,  is  of  infinitely  greater 
importance  than  all  the  affairs  of  life,  and  for  which  alone  it 
is  worth  your  while  to  live — you  will  shun'  the  company 
of  the  wicked,  the  vain,  and  secure,  as  much  as  possible ; 
yes,  you  will  shun  them  as  much  as  you  now  do  the  fami- 
lies that  are  infected  with  the  epidemical  disorder,  and  with 
much  better  reason;  for  they  are  infected  with  a  much 

21 


814  A  TIME   OF   UNUSUAL  SICKNESS 

more  fatal  disease — the  disease  of  sin,  which  is  so  deadly, 
and  which  your  souls  are  apt  to  catch.  In  short,  you  will 
avoid  every  obstacle  to  your  conversion,  as  far  as  you  can ; 
and  till  you  are  brought  to  this,  it  is  in  vain  to  pretend 
that  you  have  any  real  inclination  to  turn  to  God;  and 
such  of  you  as  have  never  been  brought  to  it,  may  be  sure 
you  have  never  been  converted.  0 !  when  shall  we  see  such 
earnest  endeavors  among  us !  When  shall  we  see  sinners  thus 
vigorously  striving  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate  ?  When  will 
their  dead  sleep  be  over?  When  will  the  delusive  dream 
of  their  false  hopes  vanish  ?  When  will  they  begin  to  con- 
clude that  they  have  sinned  long  enough — that  they  have  de- 
layed turning  to  Grod  long  enough  ?  When  will  they  begin 
to  think  it  high  time  to  work  out  their  salvation  with  fear 
and  trembling  ?  My  dear  people,  I  long  to  see  such  a  time 
among  you  once  more !  And,  unless  such  a  time  come, 
I  expect  sundry  of  you,  even  as  many  as  are  unconverted, 
will  perish  for  ever !  Oh  !  the  shocking  thought !  What 
shall  be  done  to  avoid  so  dreadful  a  doom  ?  Come,  Holy 
Spirit — come  and  work  upon  the  hearts  of  these  impenitent 
sinners ;  for  thou  only  canst  perform  the  work.  O  !  come 
speedily,  or  they  will  be  removed  out  of  the  sphere  of  thy 
sanctifying  influences  into  the  territories  of  eternal  death ! 
Brethren,  till  the  Spirit  be  poured  out  upon  us  from  on 
high,  the  work  of  conversion  will  never  go  on  prosperously 
among  us !  We  have  had  sufficient  trial  to  convince  us 
of  this.  We  have  had  preaching,  and  all  the  means  of 
grace,  long  enough  to  make  us  sensible  that  all  will  not  do, 
without  the  Holy  Spirit — therefore  let  us  earnestly  pray 
for  his  blessing.     For, 

Fourthly,  if  afflictions  are  followed  with  so  blessed  an 
effect  upon  you  as  to  turn  you  to  God,  you  will  be  made 
deeply  sensible  of  your  inability  to  turn  to  him  by  the 
best  endeavors  you  can  use,  and  of  the  absolute  necessity 
of  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  or  the  power  of  divine 
grace.  While  you  are  ignorant  of  yourselves,  and  have 
not  put  the  matter  to  a  trial,  you  may  flatter  yourselves 
that  you  are  able  to  turn  to  God  when  you  please ;  but 
when  you  make  the  experiment  in  earnest,  you  will  soon 
be  undeceived.  You  can  indeed  abstain  from  outward  acts 
of  gross  sin — -you  can  attend  upon  the  me^ans  of  grace,  and 
perform  the  outward  duties  of  religion ;  and  this  is  your 
duty ;  but,  alas !  this  is  far  short  of  true  conversion.  All  this 


AND   MORTALITY   IMPROVED.  315 

you  may  do,  and  yet  the  heart  be  so  far  from  being  turned 
to  God,  that  it  may  be  strongly  set  against  him.  The 
heart  is  disaffected  to  strict  holiness ;  it  is  hard  as  the  nether 
millstone,  and  no  human  means  can  break  it. 

Oh !  when  shall  we  see  the  vanity  and  self-confidence 
of  sinners  mortified  ?  When  shall  we  see  them  deeply  sen- 
sible of  their  weakness  and  helplessness?  It  may  seem 
strange,  but  it  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  they  will  never 
strive  in  earnest,  till  they  are  sensible  that  all  their  stri- 
vings are  not  sufficient,  but  that  God  must  perform  the 
work  in  them.  It  is  the  high  idea  they  have  of  their  own 
power  that  keeps  them  easy  and  careless.  When  they  see 
that  it  is  God  alone  who  must  work  in  them  both  to  will 
and  to  do,  then,  and  not  till  then,  they  will  earnestly  cry 
to  him  for  his  assistance,  and  use  all  means  to  obtain  it. 
It  is  not  the  awakened  sinner  that  feels  himself  weak  and 
helpless,  that  lives  in  the  careless  neglect  of  the  means  of 
grace.  No :  it  is  the  proud,  presumptuous  sinner,  that 
thinks  he  can  do  great  things  in  religion  when  he  sets 
about  it.  It  is  indeed  a  strange  sight  to  see  those  that 
complain  they  can  do  nothing  without  Christ,  laboring 
hard ;  and  those  that  boast  they  can  do  great  things,  stand- 
ing idle !  to  see  those  that  renounce  all  dependence  on 
their  good  works,  abounding  in  good  works ;  and  those 
that  expect  to  be  saved  by  their  good  works,  living  in  the 
neglect  of  good  works,  and  doing  the  works  of  the  devil ! 
This,  I  say,  is  a  strange  sight ;  but  so  it  generally  is  found 
to  be,  in  fact,  in  the  world.     But, 

Fifthly,  if  ever  you  return  to  the  Lord,  you  will  be 
made  deeply  sensible  that  Christ  is  the  only  way  of  access 
to  God.  You  will  be  sensible,  that  it  is  only  for  his  sake 
that  you  can  expect  acceptance  with  God ;  and  that  all 
your  transactions  with  Heaven  must  be  carried  on  through 
him  as  mediator.  If  ever  you  return,  you  will  come  in 
as  obnoxious  criminals,  upon  the  footing  of  grace,  and  not 
merit ;  and  you  will  see  that  it  is  only  through  Christ  that 
grace  can  be  communicated  to  you.  Some  of  you,  perhaps, 
will  say,  "  I  will  never  believe  this  concerning  myself — I 
will  never  believe  that  I  am  such  a  o;uiltv,  obnoxious  crim- 
inal !"  Yes,  you  certainly  will  believe  it,  if  ever  you  be 
converted  and  saved ;  and  I  hope  God  has  not  given  you 
up.  If  ever  you  return  to  the  Lord,  you  will  come  in  as  a  * 
poor,  broken-hearted,  penitent  rebel.     And  until  you  feel 


316  A   TIME   OF   UNUSUAL   SICKNESS 

yourself  such,  you  will  never  comply  with  the  gospel, 
which  is  a  iriGthod  of  salvation  through  a  mediator.  0 
that  many  sinners  among  us  might  thus  be  mortified,  hum- 
bled, and  brought  down  to  the  foot  of  their  injured  Sov- 
ereign this  day !  O  that  they  may  be  sensible  that  they 
lie  at  mercy,  and  that'  they  have  not  the  least  possible 
ground  of  hope,  but  only  through  the  righteousness  of 
Christ!     But, 

Sixthly,  if  ever  you  are  turned  to  God,  you  will  experi- 
ence a  great  change  in  your  temper  and  conduct.  Your 
hearts  and  lives  will  take  a  new  bias — your  thoughts  and 
affections  will  be  directed  towards  God  and  holiness — your 
hearts  will  be  turned  to  the  holy  law  of  God,  like  wax  to 
the  seal,  and  receive  the  stamp  of  his  image.  Your  thoughts 
will  run  in  a  new  channel — your  will  and  affections  will 
fix  upon  new  objects,  and  you  will  become  new  creatures, 
■ — old  things  will  pass  away,  and  all  things  will  become 
new.  You  will  become  fit  for  heaven,  by  having  heaven- 
ly dispositions  wrought  in  you  ;  and  thence  you  may  infer 
you  shall  be  admitted  there.  Believe  me,  sirs,  when  you 
are  turned  to  God,  heaven  and  hell  will  not  be  such 
dreams  and  trifles ;  but  you  will  be  habitually  affected  with 
these  things,  as  the  most  important  realities. 

As  you  will  be  turned  to  God  and  holiness,  so  you  will 
be  turned  from  sin  and  all  its  pleasures.  Yes,  brethren, 
that  pride,  hypocrisy,  sensuality,  worldly-mindedness,  and 
all  the  various  forms  of  sin  which  you  now  indulge,  will 
become  for  ever  hateful  to  you — you  will  abhor  them,  re- 
sist them,  make  war  against  them,  and  never  allow  them 
a  peaceful  harbor  in  your  hearts  more.  How  bitter  will 
your  present  pleasures  and  pursuits  then  be  to  you ;  and 
how  will  you  bless  God,  that  he  opened  your  eyes  and 
gave  your  minds  a  new  turn  before  it  was  too  late  ! 

Seventhly,  if  ever  you  are  turned  to  the  Lord,  your 
minds  will  habitually  retain  that  turn.  I  mean,  your  reli- 
gion will  not  be  a  transient  fit,  a  fleeting  thing ;  but  it 
will  be  permanent  and  persevering.  Never  more  will  you 
be  able  to  oftend  your  God  and  neglect  your  Saviour 
and  your  souls  as  you  now  do — never  more  will  you  be 
able  to  rest  secure  and  thoughtless,  while  your  eternal 
state  is  awfully  uncertain  and  your  hearts  are  out  of  tem- 
pter for  devotion.  The  bent  of  your  minds  towards  God 
may  be  weakened;  but  you  can  never  lose  it  entirely. 


AND   MORTALITY   IMPROVED.  317 

Your  aversion  to  sin  may  be  lessened;  but  you  will 
never  give  up  yourselves  to  the  love  and  practice  of  it. 
There  is  a  secret  bias  upon  your  souls  that  inclines  them 
heavenward;  even  while  they  are  carried  downward  to 
the  earth,  by  the  remaining  tendencies  of  your  innate  cor- 
ruption. 

And  now,  my  dear  hearers,  I  have  endeavored,  with 
the  utmost  plainness,  to  describe  to  you  that  turning  to 
God  which  should  be  the  result  of  your  afflictions  as  well 
as  of  the  means  of  grace,  and  which  you  must  experience 
before  you  can  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  I  have 
had  something  more  important  at  heart  than  to  embellish 
my  style,  and  set  myself  off  as  a  fine  speaker.  I  have  en- 
deavored to  speak,  not  to  an  itching  ear  or  a  curious 
fancy,  but  to  your  understanding  and  your  heart,  that 
you  may  both  know  and  feel  what  I  say ;  and,  indeed,  if 
I  should  aim  at  any  thing  else,  I  should  be  at  once  an 
egregious  trifler  and  a  profane  mocker  of  God. 

Now  I  have  one  serious  question  to  put  to  you,  upon  a 
careful  review  of  what  I  have  said,  and  that  is.  Do  you 
really  hope  in  your  consciences,  after  you  have  impartially 
tried  yourselves  as  in  the  sight  of  God,  that  you  have  been 
converted  or  turned  to  God  ?  Here  is  the  work ;  I  have 
plainly  described  it.  But  where  is  the  heart  in  which  it 
has  been  wrought  ?  Can  you  put  your  hand  upon  your 
breast  and  say,  "  Oh  !  if  I  know  myselfj  here  is  the  heart 
that  has  been  the  subject  of  it!"  Pause  and  think  upon 
this  inquiry,  and  never  be  easy  till  you  can  give  at  least 
a  probable  answer. 

But  my  main  business  to-day  lies  with  the  unconverted ; 
and  have  not  some  of  you  discovered  yourselves  this  day 
to  be  such  ?  Well,  what  is  to  be  done  now  ?  Can  you  go 
on  careless  and  secure  still  under  this  tremendous  convic- 
tion ?  If  you  are  determined  on  this  course,  then  you  may 
despair  indeed — there  is  not  the  least  ground  of  hope  for 
you.  But  should  you  now  rouse  out  of  your  security,  and 
seek  the  Lord  in  earnest,  you  have  the  same  encourage- 
ment to  hope  which  any  one  of  the  many  millions  of  con- 
verts in  heaven  or  upon  earth  had,  while  in  your  condi- 
tion. Therefore  let  me  persuade  you  to  take  this  course 
immediately. 

But  when  I  begin  to  persuade,  I  am  in  Jeremiah's  per- 
plexity :  "To  whom  shall  I  speak  and  give  warning  that 

27* 


318  A  TIME   OF   UNUSUAL   SICKNESS,    ETC. 

tlicj  may  hear  ?"  Shall  I  speak  to  you,  men  of  business 
and  hurry  ?  Alas !  you  have  no  leisure  to  mind  such  a 
trifle  as  your  soul.  Shall  I  speak  to  you,  men  of  wealth 
and  character  ?  Alas !  this  is  a  business  beneath,  your  no- 
tice. What !  a  gentleman  cry  for  converting  grace  !  That 
would  be  a  strange  sight  indeed.  Shall  I  speak  to  you; 
old  men — my  venerable  fathers  in  age?  Alas!  you  are 
so  hardened  by  a  long  course  of  sinning,  that  you  are  not 
likely  to  hear.  Shall  I  speak  to  you,  ye  relics  of  those 
families  where  death  has  lately  made  such  havoc  ?  Sure  you 
must  be  disposed  to  hear  me — sure  you  cannot  put  me  off 
so  soon.  I  hope  sickness  and  death  have  been  sent  among 
you  as  my  assistants ;  that  is,  to  enforce  what  I  say,  and 
be  the  means  of  your  conversion.  Shall  I  speak  to  you, 
young  people  ?  Alas !  you  are  too  merry  and  gay  to  lis- 
ten to  such  things ;  and  you,  perhaps,  think  it  is  time 
enough  as  yet.  Thus,  I  am  afraid,  you  will  put  me  off; 
and  if  you  put  me  off,  I  shall  hardly  know  where  to  turn, 
for  of  all  the  unconverted  among  us,  I  have  most  hopes  of 
you.  Old  sinners  are  so  confirmed  in  their  estrangement 
from  God,  that  there  is  but  little  hope  of  such  veterans ; 
but  the  habits  of  sin  are  not  so  strong  in  you^  and  God  is  wont 
to  work  upon  persons  of  your  age.  If  you,  then,  put  me 
off,  Avhere  shall  I  turn  ?  Behold,  I  turn  to  the  Gentiles. 
Poor  negroes  1  Shall  I  find  one  among  you  that  is  willing 
to  turn  to  God  ?  Many  of  you  are  willing  to  be  baptized ; 
but  that  is  not  the  thing.  Are  you  willing  to  turn  to  God 
with  all  your  hearts,  in  the  manner  I  have  explained  to 
you  ?  This  is  the  grand  question ;  and  what  do  your 
hearts  answer  to  it  ?  If  you  also  refuse — if  you  all  refuse, 
then  what  remains  for  your  poor  minister  to  do,  but  to  re- 
turn home  and  make  this  complaint  to  him  that  sent  him : 
"Lord,  there  were  unconverted  sinners  among  my  hearers, 
and  in  my  poor  manner  I  made  an  honest  trial  to  turn 
them  to  thee ;  but,  Lord,  it  was  in  vain — they  refused  to 
return  ;  and  therefore  I  must  leave  them  to  thee  to  do 
what  thou  pleasest  with  them !"  Oh !  will  you  constrain 
me  to  make  this  complaint  upon  any  of  you  to  my  divine 
Master?  Oh!  free  me  from  the  disagreeable  necessity. 
Come,  come  all,  rich  and  poor,  young  and  old,  bond  and 
free  ;  come,  and  let  us  return  unto  the  Lord ;  for  "  he  hath 
torn,  and  he  will  heal  us ;  he  hath  smitten,  and  he  will 
bind  us  up,  and  we  shall  live  in  his  sight."     Arrien, 


319  THE   CERTAINTY    OF   DEATH. 


XXXI. 

THE  CERTAmiY  OF  DEATH;  A  FUNERAL  SERMON. 

"  0  wicked  man,  thou  shalt  surely  die." — Ezck.  xxxiii.  8. 

Men  love  themselves,  and  therefore  delight  to  hear  things 
favorable  to  themselves ;  and  a  benevolent  mind,  that  feels 
pain  whenever  he  occasions  pain  to  the  meanest  of  his  fel- 
low-creatures, would  delight  to  dwell  upon  such  pleasing 
subjects.  And  as  to  the  happy  few,  who  are  really  the 
sincere  servants  of  God,  and  are  holy  in  heart  and  life,  I 
may  safely  gratify  this  benevolent  inclination,  and  publish 
the  most  joyful  tidings.  I  am  authorized  to  "  say  to  the 
righteous,  it  shall  be  well  with  him."  "  Comfort  ye,  com- 
fort ye,  my  people  ;  speak  ye  comfortably  to  Jerusalem." 
This  is  the  gracious  command  of  God  to  all  his  ministers. 
And,  oh !  how  delightful  an  office  to  perform  it !  This 
only  should  be  the  pleasing  business  of  this  hour,  could  I 
stretch  my  charity  so  far  as  to  conclude  that  all  this  pro- 
miscuous crowd,  without  exception,  are  indeed  the  dutiful 
people  of  God.  But  was  there  ever  such  a  pure  assembly 
upon  our  guilty  earth?  upon  our  earth,  where  an  accursed 
Ham  was  found  in  the  little,  select  family  of  ISToah,  the 
best  in  the  whole  world ;  where  a  Judas  mingled  among 
the  chosen  twelve,  the  first  followers  of  Jesus ;  where  the 
tares  and  the  wheat  grow  together  in  one  field  till  the  har- 
vest; and  where  we  are  expressly  told  "many  are  called 
but  few  chosen."  In  such  a  corrupt  world,  the  most 
generous  charity,  if  under  any  scriptural  limitations,  must 
hesitate  at  the  sight  of  such  a  mixed  multitude  as  this — 
must  be  jealous  over  them  with  a  godly  jealousy ;  must  fear, 
lest  there  be  one — yea,  more  than  one,  wicked  man  among 
them.  That  there  is  too  much  reason  for  this  suspicion, 
and  that  even  a  benevolent  mind  is  constrained  to  admit 
if,  however  unwilling,  will  appear  evident,  I  presume,  to 
yourselves  before  I  have  finished  my  discourse.  And  if 
there  be  so  much  as  one  wicked  man  among  us,  I  would, 


820  THE  CERTAINTY  OF  DEATH; 

as  it  were,  single  him  out  from  tlie  crowd,  and  discharge 
this  pointed  arrow  from  the  quiver  of  the  Almighty  against 
his  heart,  to  give  him  not  a  deadly  but  a  medicinal  wound. 
"  O  wicked  man,  thou  shalt  surely  die."  I  am  obliged,  at 
my  peril,  to  denounce  this  doom  against  thee ;  and  I  dare 
not  flatter  thee  with  better  hopes,  unless  I  would  be  acces- 
sor}^ to  thy  death,  and  at  once  ruin  both  myself  and  thee. 
For  observe  the  context,  which  contains  the  instructions  of 
the  great  Jehovah  to  his  minister  Ezekiel,  which  are  equally 
binding  upon  all  the  ministers  of  his  word  in  every  age. 
"  O  thou  son  of  man,  I  have  set  thee  a  watchman  unto  the 
house  of  Israel ;  therefore  thou  shalt  hear  the  word  at  my 
mouth,  and  warn  them  from  me.  When  I  say  unto  the 
wicked,  O  wicked  man,  thou  shalt  surely  die  ;  if  thou  dost 
not  speak  to  warn  the  wicked  from  his  way,  that  wicked 
man  shall  die  in  his  iniquity  ;  but  his  blood  will  I  require 
at  thy  hands."  This  phrase,  "  I  will  require  his  blood  at 
thy  hand,"  signifies  "  I  will  look  upon  thee  as  guilty  of  his 
murder,  and  I  will  punish  thee  accordingly."  Therefore, 
if  I  would  not  incur  the  guilt  and  punishment  of  murder, 
soul-murder,  the  most  shocking  kind  of  murder ;  if  I  would 
not  destroy  you  and  myself,  that  you  may  enjoy  the  sorry 
pleasure  of  flattery,  and  that  I  may  enjoy  the  short-lived, 
trifling  reward  of  a  little  popular  applause,  I  am'  obliged  to 
tell  such  of  you  as  are  wicked,  in  the  most  pungent  man- 
ner, and  as  it  were  by  name,  "  0  wicked  man,  thou  shalt 
surely  die ;"  whoever  thou  art,  however  rich,  or  powerful, 
or  honorable ;  however  bold  and  presumptuous ;  however 
full  of  flattering  hopes  ;  however  sure  of  life  in  thine  own 
conceit ;  if  thou  be  wicked,  thou  shalt  die  ;  thou  shalt  surely 
die  ;  or,  to  use  the  force  of  the  Hebrew  phrase,  dying  thou 
shalt  die.  It  is  the  declaration  of  eternal  truth,  which  can- 
not fail ;  it  is  the  sentence  of  the  Lord  of  hosts,  who  is  able 
to  carry  it  into  execution.  But  here  two  interesting  ques- 
tions occur.  Who  are  the  wicked  ?  and  What  kind  of  death 
shall  they  die  ? 

If  we  should  not  first  inquire,  who  the  wicked  are,  I 
should  but  speak  to  the  air ;  for  hardly  any  Avould  apply 
the  character  to  themselves.  It  is  an  odious  character ; 
and  that  alone  is  the  reason  why  many  try  to  persuade 
themselves  it  is  not  theirs.  Let  us  submit  ourselves  to  an 
impartial  trial,  and  endeavor  to  discover  whether  the 
character  of  the  wicked  man  belongs  to  us  or  not. 


A   FUNEHAL    SERMON.  321 

The  first  class  of  wicked  men  that  I  shall  take  notice  of, 
are  profane  and  gross  sinners,  wlio  indulge  themselves  in 
notorious  immoralities.  Instead  of  particularizing  them 
myself,  I  shall  produce  to  you  a  list  of  them,  which  the 
apostle  has  given  long  ago.  "  Know  ye  not,  that  the  un- 
righteous shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God."  He 
seems  surprised  any  should  be  ignorant  of  so  plain  a  point 
as  this.  "Be  not  deceived,"  says  he  ;  do  not  flatter  your- 
selves with  better  hopes;  but  who  are  the  unrighteous? 
He  tells  you  particularly,  "  Neither  fornicators,  nor  idola- 
ters, nor  adulterers,  nor  effeminate,"  soft,  luxurious  crea- 
tures, unmanned  with  sensual  pleasures,  "  nor  abusers  of 
themselves  with  mankind,"  Sodomites,  "  nor  thieves,  nor 
covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  extortioners, 
shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God."  You  see  the  apostle  is 
fixed  and  peremptory  in  it,  that  sinners  of  this  class  are 
universally  excluded  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven — not 
one  of  them  all  shall  ever  be  admitted  there,  if  they  con- 
tinue such.  All  such  shall  certainly  perish,  or  else  St.  Paul 
was  an  impostor.  To  the  same  purpose  he  speaks,  "  the 
works  of  the  flesh  are  manifest,  which  are  these,  adultery, 
fornication,  uncleanness,  lasciviousness,  idolatry,  witch- 
craft, hatred,  variance,  emulations,  wrath,  strife,  seditions, 
heresies,  envyings,  murders,  drunkenness,  revelings,  and 
such  like  ;  of  the  which  I  tell  you  before,"  that  is,  I  honestly 
forewarn  you,  "  as  I  have  told  you  in  times  past,  that  they 
which  do  such  things  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of 
God."  As  sin  is  a  monster  of  so  many  heads,  he  does  not 
enumerate  them  all,  but  comprehends  them  in  a  lump ;  de- 
claring that  they  who  practised  the  vices  mentioned,  or 
such  like,  though  not  exactly  the  same,  shall  be  excluded 
from  heaven.  He  denounces  the  same  doom  against  these 
vices  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Colossians :  "  fornication,  un- 
cleanness, inordinate  affection,  evil  concupiscence,  and 
covetousness," — for  which  things'  sake  the  wrath  of  God 
Cometh  on  the  children  of  disobedience.  I  shall  add  but 
one  testimony  more,  "  the  fearful,"  the  cowardly  in  the 
cause  of  God,  "and  unbelieving,  and  the  abominable,  and 
murderers,  and  whoremongers,  and  sorcerers,  and  idolaters, 
and  all  liars  shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake  that  burneth 
with  fire  and  brimstone,  which  is  the  second  death."  These 
you  see  are  the  certain  symptoms  of  the  heirs  of  hell ;  and 
if  they  be  admitted  into  a  state  of  everlasting  happiness, 


822  THE  CEKTAINTY  OF  DEATH; 

wliile  they  continue  such,  it  is  certain  your  religion  must 
be  false;  for  the  Bible,  which  is  the  foundation  of  your 
religion,  repeatedly  declares  they  shall  not  be  admitted 
there.  It  is  also  observable,  that  in  this  black  list  you  not 
only  find  such  gross  vices  as  are  scandalous  in  the  common 
estimate  of  mankind,  but  also  such  as  are  secret,  seated  in 
the  heart,  and  generally  esteemed  but  lesser  evils.  Here 
you  find  not  only  murder,  whoredom,  idolatry,  theft,  and 
such  enormous  and  scandalous  sins,  but  also  covetousness, 
wrath,  strife,  envyings,  unbelief,  and  such  like  latent  sins, 
which  men  generally  indulge  themselves  in  without  feeling- 
much  guilt  upon  their  consciences,  or  apprehending  them- 
selves "n  gieat  danger  of  punishment. 

I  should  be  very  sorry  so  much  as  to  suppose  there  are 
any  among  you  of  this  abandoned  character.  But  I  must 
propose  the  matter  to  your  decision ;  and  at  so  favorable  a 
tribunal  you  will  no  doubt  be  acquitted,  if  you  be  clear. 
I  say,  I  propose  it  to  yourselves,  whether  some  of  you  be 
not  drunkards,  swearers,  liars,  extortioners,  sabbath-break- 
ers, and  the  like  ?  Or,  if  you  are  free  from  these  grosser 
forms  of  vice,  do  not  some  of  you  live  in  wrath,  strife, 
reveling  and  carousing,  covetousness,  secret  uncleanness, 
and  the  like  ?  If  this  be  your  character,  I  have  another 
thing  to  propose  to  you ;  and  that  is,  whether  it  be  most 
likely  that  you  shall  be  excluded  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
or  that  Christ  and  his  apostles,  and  the  other  writers  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  were  deceivers  ?  one  or  the  other  must 
be  the  case ;  if  you  be  admitted  into  heaven,  then  Ihey 
were  certainly  deceivers;  for  they  have  declared  you 
shall  not  be  admitted. 

Thus  far  you  are  assisted  to  judge  who  are  the  wicked ; 
and  whether  some  of  you  do  not  belong  to  this  unhappy 
class.     And  now  I  proceed  to  another  class. 

Secondly:  All  those  are  wicked  who  knowingly  and 
willfully  indulge  themselves  habitually  in  any  one  sin, 
whether  it  be  the  omission  of  a  commanded  duty  or  the 
practice  of  something  forbidden.  Every  good  man  is  of 
the  same  opinion  as  the  apostle  Paul,  "I  delight  in  the  law 
of  God  after  the  inner  man."  And,  consequently,  they 
"  who  do  not  delight  in  his  law  are  of  a  spirit  and  character 
directly  contrary  to  Paul ;  in  other  words,  they  are  wicked. 
The  willful  and  habitual  practice  of  any  known  sin,  and 
the  willful  and  habitual  neglect  of  any  known  duty,  arc 


A   FUNERAL   SERMON.  323 

repeatedly  mentioned  in  tlie  Scriptures,  as  the  sure  signs 
of  a  wicked  man.  Our  Lord  himself  has  repeatedly 
assured  us,  that  all  pretensions  to  love  him  are  vain,  unless 
we  keep  his  commandments.  What  is  it  to  be  a  wicked 
man,  but  to  work  iniquity  ?  and  what  is  it  to  work  iniquity, 
but  to  neglect  what  God  has  commanded,  or  practice  what 
he  has  forbidden? 

Be  this,  therefore,  known  to  you  all,  as  an  undoubted 
truth,  that  the  willful  habitual  indulgence  of  any  known 
sin  is  the  inseparable  character  of  a  wicked  man.  You 
may  plead  the  infirmity  of  human  nature,  the  strength  of 
temptation,  or  the  innocence  of  your  hearts  and  intentions, 
even  in  the  midst  of  your  sins ;  you  may  plead  that  the 
best  have  their  infirmities  as  well  as  you;  and  that 
man}^  around  you  are  much  worse  than  you — you  may 
plead  these  and  a  thousand  other  such  excuses ;  but  plead 
what  you  will,  all  your  excuses  are  in  vain;  and  this  still 
remains  an  unchangeable  truth,  that  all  the  habitual  prac- 
ticers  of  sin  are  the  servants  of  sin.  It  matters  not  wheth- 
er the  sin  be  secret  and  clandestine,  or  public  and  avowed ; 
whether  it  be  a  greater  or  smaller  size ;  whether  you  are 
stung  with  remorse  for  it  afterwards,  or  not ;  whether  you 
intend  to  forsake  it  hereafter,  or  not ;  such  circumstances 
as  these  will  not  alter  the  case ;  in  spite  of  such  circum- 
stances, if  you  indulge  any  one  known  sin,  you  bear  the 
infernal  brand  of  wickedness  upon  you.  I  grant  that 
good  men  sin,  and  that  they  are  far  from  perfection  of  holi- 
ness in  this  life.  I  grant  also  that  some  of  them  have 
fallen,  perhaps  once  in  their  life,  into  some  gross  sin.  But 
after  all,  I  must  insist  that  they  do  not  indulge  themselves 
in  the  willful  habitual  practice  of  any  known  sin,  or  the 
willful  habitual  neglect  of  any  known  duty.  St.  John  ex- 
pressly tells  us,  that  "  he  that  is  born  of  God,  neither  doth 
nor  can  sin,"  in  this  sense.  He  cannot  sin  habitually  ;  the 
meaning  is,  he  cannot  go  on  in  any  one  sin  as  his  usual 
course;  but  if  he  fall,  it  is  by  surprise;  and  taking  one 
time  with  another,  he  is  generally,  and  for  the  most  part, 
under  the  influence  of  holy  principles.  Again,  he  cannot 
sin  willfully ;  that  is,  with  full  bent  of  soul.  The  prevail- 
ing inclination  and  tendency  of  his  soul  is  not  towards  sin ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  really  hates  it,  and  resists  it, 
even  in  its  most  tempting  forms ;  and  it  is  his  incessant 
struggle  and  honest  endeavor  to  suppress  it.     He  never 


324  THE  CERTAINTY  OF  DEATH; 

can  abandon  himself  more  to  the  free  uncontrolled  indul- 
gence of  the  sweetest  sin,  though  it  should  be  only  in  heart. 
Both  Scripture  and  reason  renounce  those  crowds  of  pre- 
tended Christians  we  have  among  us,  who  are  under  the 
habitual  power  of  some  sin  or  other,  and  live  in  the  neg- 
lect of  some  known  duty. 

And  now,  are  not  sundry  of  you  convicted  of  the  char- 
acter of  wicked  men,  who  might  not  come  under  the  former 
class  of  profane  sinners  ?  Do  not  some  of  you  know  in 
your  conscience  there  is  some  little  sweet  sin  (so  you 
esteem  it)  which  you  cannot  bear  to  part  with  ?  Is  there 
not  some  duty,  which  is  so  disagreeable  to  you,  so  contrary 
to  your  inclination,  to  your  reputation  in  the  wicked  world, 
or  to  your  temporal  interest,  that  though  you  are  secretly 
convinced  it  is  your  duty,  yet  you  omit  it,  you  put  it  off, 
and  think  God  will  dispense  with  your  obedience  in  so 
slight  a  matter  ?  If  so,  you  must  be  ranked  in  the  numer- 
ous class  of  wicked  men.  There,  indeed,  you  have  com- 
pany enough ;  but  company  is  no  security  in  a  combina- 
tion against  Omnipotence. 

Thirdly,  all  those  are  wicked  who  are  destitute  of  those 
graces  and  virtues  which  constitute  the  character  of  posi- 
tive goodness.  Wickedness  is  a  moral  privation,  or  the 
ivant  of  real  goodness.  The  want  of  faith,  the  want  of 
love,  repentance,  benevolence,  and  charity,  does  as  really 
constitute  a  wicked  man  as  drunkenness,  blasphemy,  or  any 
notorious  immorality.  Certainly  I  need  not  particularly 
mention  to  you  those  passages  of  Scripture  which  declare 
those  graces  essential  to  a  good  man,  and  the  want  of  them 
the  grand  mark  and  constituent  of  a  bad  one.  A  good 
man  that  does  not  love  Grod  or  mankind,  a  good  man 
without  faith  or  repentance,  is  as  great  a  contradiction  as  a 
hero  without  courage,  a  scholar  without  learning,  a  righ- 
teous ruler  without  justice,  or  a  fire  without  heat.  There- 
fore, if  any  of  you  be  destitute  of  the  grace  of  repentance, 
if  you  have  not  a  clear  conviction  and  deep  sense  of  your 
sinfulness  in  heart  and  life,  by  nature  and  practice ;  if  you 
be  not  deeply  sorry  at  heart  for  your  sins,  and  hate  them — 
hate  them  all  without  exception ;  if  you  do  not  forsake 
your  sins,  as  well  as  sorrow  for  them ;  and  if  you  do  not 
fly  to  the  mere  mercy  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ  for  pardon, 
and  place  all  your  dependence  upon  his  righteousness;  I 
say,  unless  this  be  your  daily  cxpci-ience  and  practice,  you 


A  FUNERAL   SERMON.  825 

are  entirely  destitute  of  true  evangelical  repentance,  and 
consequently  come  under  the  unhappy  class  of  wicked 
men.  If  you  do  not  love  God  with  all  your  hearts,  that 
is,  if  you  have  not  frequent  affectionate  thoughts  of  him  ; 
if  you  do  not  delight  in  his  service,  and  in  communion 
with  him  in  divine  ordinances ;  if  your  love  do  not  produce 
cheerful  universal  obedience,  which  is  the  infallible  test  of 
love,  then  you  are  certainly  destitute  of  the  heavenly 
grace  of  love ;  and  sure,  without  this,  you  will  not  pretend 
to  the  character  of  good  men !  Now  if  all  who  are  desti- 
tute of  these  qualifications  should  walk  off*  to  the  left 
hand,. as  they  must  do  another  day,  would  it  not  thin  this 
crowd  ?  Oh  1  how  few  would  be  left  behind !  I  beseech 
3^ou  to  examine  yourselves  impartially,  that  you  may  know 
your  true  character. 

Fourthly,  to  sum  up  the  whole,  all  those  are  wicked 
who  still  continue  in  their  natural  state ;  who  have  never 
been  regenerated,  or  experienced  a  thorough  change  of 
their  views  and  dispositions  towards  God,  and  divine 
things.  Even  our  own  observation  of  the  natural  temper 
of  mankind  is  sufficient  to  convince  us,  though  the  Scrip- 
tures were  silent,  that  they  are  from  their  very  birth  wicked, 
disinclined  to  God  and  holiness,  and  bent  to  that  which  is 
evil.  Alas !  you  are  stupidly  ignorant  of  yourselves,  if 
you  do  not  know,  by  experience,  that  this  is  your  case. 
To  this  the  Scriptures  also  bear  abundant  testimony. 
"  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh ;  and  they  that 
are  in  the  flesh  cannot  please  God."  "  We  were  by  nature 
the  children  of  wrath,  even  as  others;"  we  and  others, 
that  is,  all,  without  exception,  are  by  nature  children  of 
wrath,  and  consequently  wicked ;  for  certainly  those  who 
are  not  wicked  cannot  be  children  of  wrath.  Upon  this 
corruption  of  human  nature  is  founded  the  necessity  of 
that  change  of  temper  which  the  Scripture  calls,  and  wiiicli 
therefore,  we  dare  to  call  the  new  birth  or  new  creation. 
And  since  this  corruption  of  human  nature  is  universal, 
it  follows  that  all  are  wicked  who  have  never  experienced 
this  divine  change. 

This  must  suffice,  at  present,  in  answer  to  the  first  ques- 
tion. Who  are  the  wicked  ?  And  I  hope  sundr}^  of  you, 
if  you  honestly  make  use  of  the  light  you  have,  have  dis- 
covered that  whatever  flattering  hopes  you  have  enter- 
tained, you  must  really  place  yourselves  in  the  class  with 

28 


326  THE  CEKTAINTY  OF  DEATH; 

wicked  men.  This  is  an  alarming  consideration  at  any 
time ;  but  it  is  much  better  to  receive  it  now,  when  the 
case  may  be  remedied,  than  in  the  eternal  world,  where  it 
will  be  too  late.  And  now,  0  wicked  man,  who  ever  thou 
art,  as  Ehud  said  to  Eglon,  ^'  I  have  a  message  from  God 
to  thee;"  a  message  not  unlike  to  his ;  and  that  is,  "  Thou 
shalt  surely  die."  Profane  sinner,  drunkard,  swearer, 
whoremonger,  "  thou  shalt  surely  die."  You  that  know- 
ingly, willfully,  and  habitually  indulge  in  any  favorite  sin, 
''  you  shall  surely  die."  You  that  are  destitute  of  genuine 
faith,  love,  and  the  other  graces  and  virtues,  essential  to  a 
good  man,  ''  you  shall  surely  die."  You  that  are  still  the 
same  in  temper  and  disposition  that  you  were  by  nature, 
"you  shall  surely  die."  This  is  the  invariable  decree  of 
Heaven,  that  you  shall  die.  You  may  cast  death  out  of 
your  thoughts;  but  for  all  this  you  shall  die;  you  may 
continue  unprepared  for  it,  but  you  must  die  prepared  or 
not.  You  may  be  young,  gay,  presumptuous,  rich,  or 
powerful,  but  you  must  die.  Were  you  as  high  and  as 
bright  as  Lucifer,  as  rich  as  Croesus,  as  powerful  as  Alex- 
ander, you  must  die.  Your  wickedness  cannot  immortal- 
ize you.  Though  you  are  wicked  men  now,  you  shall  be 
dead  men  ere  long.  Yes,  as  surely  as  you  now  live,  you 
shall  die.  But  you  will,  perhaps,  reply,  "  What  is  this 
that  you  tell  us  ?  Is  death  the  lot  only  of  the  wicked  ? 
Must  not  all  men  die,  the  good  as  well  as  the  bad?  How 
then  can  death  be  threatened  as  the  peculiar  doom  of  the 
wicked?"  The  answer  to  this  naturally  leads  me  to  the 
second  question.  What  kind  of  death  shall  the  wicked 
man  die  ?  It  is  true,  natural  death  is  the  universal  doom 
of  all  the  sons  of  men.  ''How  dieth  the  wise  man?  as  the 
fool?"  The  highest  attainments  in  piety  cannot  secure  an 
earthly  immortality.  Peter  and  Paul  are  dead  as  well  as 
Judas.  But  though  there  be  no  difference  in  this  respect, 
there  is  a  wide  difference  in  another,  and  that  is,  the  death 
of  the  wicked  is  quite  another  thing,  or  comes  under  quite 
a  different  notion  from  the  death  of  the  righteous.  The 
death  of  the  wicked,  like  an  officer  from  the  offended 
sovereign,  strikes  off  the  fetters  of  flesh,  that  they  may  be 
carried  away  to  the  place  of  execution ;  but  the  death  of 
the  righteous,  like  a  friendly  angel,  only  opens  the  door  of 
their  prison,  and  dismisses  them  from  their  bondage  in 
sinful  llcsh.     The  righteous,  in  death,  enjoy,  more  or  less, 


A   FUNERAL   SEEMON.  327 

the  consolations  of  an  approving  conscience,  of  the  sweets 
of  the  love  of  God,  and  the  kind  supports  of  an  Almiglity 
Saviour's  hand.  But  the  wicked  die  as  criminals  by  the 
hand  of  justice,  their  guilt  is  unpardoned,  and  this  gives 
death  its  sting ;  they  have  no  Almighty  friend  in  death, 
but  Jesus,  who  alone  can  relieve  them,  is  their  enemy ; 
they  have  no  reviving  sensations  of  divine  love,  but 
guilty  reflections  and  shocking  prospects ;  or,  if  they  en- 
tertain hopes  of  happiness,  which  most  of  them  probably 
do,  alas!  they  are  but  short-lived  delusions,  which  will 
vanish  like  a  dream  in  the  morning,  as  soon  as  the  light  of 
eternity  flashes  upon  them.  Death  dismisses  the  righteous 
from  all  their  sins  and  sorrows,  and  conveys  them  into  a  state 
of  perfect  and  everlasting  holiness  and  happiness ;  but  the 
death  of  the  wicked  cuts  them  off  from  all  enjoyments, 
from  the  means  and  hopes  of  salvation,  and  fixes  them  in 
an  unchangeable,  everlasting  state  of  sin  and  misery. 
Then,  farewell,  a  long,  an  everlasting  farewell  to  the  com- 
forts of  this  life  ;  farewell  to  friends ;  farewell  to  hope  and 
peace ;  farewell  to  all  the  means  of  grace ;  farewell  God, 
and  Christ,  and  angels,  and  all  the  blessedness  of  heaven. 
Now,  nothing  awaits  them  but  wrath  and  fiery  indignation. 
Thus,  0  wicked  man,  you  shall  die  ;  and  is  not  this  a  very 
different  thing  from  the  death  of  the  righteous  ? 

Realize  this  prospect,  sinners,  and  sure  it  must  startle 
you.  The  time  is  Just  at  hand  when  the  cold  hand  of  death 
shall  arrest  you;,  when  the  vital  pulse  shall  cease  to  beat 
and  your  blood  to  flow,  a  ghastly  paleness  overspread 
your  countenances,  and  a  deadly  numbness  creep  over 
your  frame  and  stupefy  your  active  limbs ;  when  the  un- 
willing, lingering  soul  must  be  torn  from  its  old  companion 
of  flesh,  must  bid  adieu  to  all  the  enjoyments  and  pursuits 
of  this  mortal  life,  and  shoot  the  gulf  of  eternity,  and  launch 
away  ;  when  it  must  pass  into  the  immediate  presence  of 
God,  mingle  among  the  strange,  unacquainted  beings  that 
inhabit  the  imseen,  untried  world,  and  be  fixed  in  an  un- 
changeable state  ;  when  you  must  leave  your  riches,  your 
honor,  your  pleasures,  which  are  pursued  with  so  much 
labor  and  eagerness,  and  go  as  naked  out  of  the  world  as 
you  came  into  it :  when  you  .are  reduced  to  this  extremity, 
think,  0  wicked  man,  think  seriously  how  miserable  your 
condition  will  be  !  Then  no  comfortable  reviews  of  past 
Ino !  no  supporting  whispers  of  conscience  within !  no  God, 


328  THE  CERTAINTY  OF  DEATH; 

no  Jesus,  no  Saviour  to  support  j^ou !  no  encourgaging 
pr5spect  before  you!  or  none  but  the  delusive,  evanishing, 
confounding  encouragements  of  a  false  and  flattering  hope ! 
no  relief,  no  gleam  of  hope  from  heaven  or  earth,  from 
God  or  his  creatures!  But  a  guilty  life  behind  you!  a 
corrupt  heart,  utterly  unfit  for  heaven,  and  a  clamorous, 
gnawing  conscience  within  you !  an  angry  God,  a  frown- 
ing Saviour,  and  a  lost  heaven,  above  you !  a  boundless 
burning  ocean  below  you  !  O  !  what  a  tragical  exit,  what 
a  melancholy  end  is  this !  This  is  to  die  indeed  !  And 
thus,  "  O  wicked  man,  thou  shalt  surely  die."  Such  a  death 
will  be  the  certain  doom  of  persisting,  impenitent  wicked- 
ness. I  need  make  no  exception  at  all,  but  only  that  which 
I  have  already  hinted  at,  namely,  that  many  a  wicked  man 
dies  with  a  self-flattering  apprehension  that  he  is  not 
wicked,  and  with  sanguine  hopes  of  heaven.  This  is  a 
common  case,  especially  with  persons  who  have  not  lived 
under  a  faithful  ministry,  to  inform  them  honestly  of  the 
nature  of  religion,  and  the  prerequisites  of  salvation.  But, 
alas !  what  a  sandy  foundation  is  this !  what  avails  it  to 
enjoy  a  little  delusive  relief  in  the  hour  of  death,  when  the 
first  entrance  into  the  eternal  world  will  cause  the  dream 
to  vanish  for  ever,  and  leave  you  to  perish  without  hope, 
in  all  the  confusion  and  consternation  of  a  disappointment ! 
with  this  trifling  exception,  which  indeed  is  rather  an  ag- 
gravation than  a  real  mitigation,  I  denounce  from  the  living 
God,  that  thus  shall  every  wicked  man  among  you  die,  if 
you  still  continue  such. 

But  even  this,  dreadful  as  it  is,  is  not  all ;  there  is,  besides 
this,  that  dreadful  something,  called  the  second  death,  which 
thou,  0  wicked  man,  must  die.  Besides  that  death,  which 
will  put  an  end  to  this  transitory  life,  you  will  have  another 
death  to  suffer ;  a  death,  which  will  immediately  commence 
when  the  other  is  over ;  a  death  which  will  not  be  over  in 
a  few  moments,  like  the  other,  but  the  agonies  of  which 
will  continue — an  everlasting  death — a  state  of  misery, 
which  will  render  life  worse  than  death,  or  being  worse 
than  annihilation.  Then  the  soul  will  be  for  ever  dead  to 
God  and  holiness — dead  to  all  the  means  of  grace,  and  all 
the  enjoyments  of  this  life— rdead  to  all  happiness  and  all 
hope — dead  to  all  the  comfortable  purposes  of  existence — ■ 
and  every  thing  that  deserves  the  name  of  life ;  in  short, 
dead  to  every  thing,  but  the  torturing  sensations  of  pain ; 


A   FUNERAL   SERMON.  829 

to  these  tlie  soul  will  be  tremblingly  alive  all  over  to  eter- 
nity; but,  alas!  to  be  alive,  in  this  sense,  alive  only  to 
suffer  pain,  is  worse  than  death,  worse  than  annihilation. 
This  is  the  import  of  that  dreadful  phrase,  "  the  second 
death." 

And  now,  when  you  see  the  dreadful  import  of  this  de- 
nunciation, may  it  not  spread  terror  through  this  assembly 
to  hear,  "  0  wicked  man,  thou  shalt  surely  die?"  Are  your 
hearts  proof  against  the  thunder  of  his  threatenings  ?  Are* 
you  so  foolhardy  as  not  to  be  concerned  whether  eternal 
life  or  eternal  death  be  your  doom  ?  Is  there  no  wicked 
man  in  this  assembly  so  much  affected  as  at  least  to  inquire, 
"Is  there  no  way  of  escape?  Must  I  die  without  relief? 
Is  the  sentence  passed  beyond  repeal  ?"  'No  ;  blessed  be 
God,  you  are  yet  alive;  and  while  there  is  life  there  is 
hope.  The  gates  of  eternal  despair  are  not  yet  shut  and 
barred  upon  you.  Therefore,  in  the  name  of  God,  I  assure 
you  there  is  hope,  there  is  a  possibility  of  escaping.  But 
in  what  way?  Suppose  you  sin  on,  as  you  have  done 
hitherto,  and  herd  in  the  crowd  of  wicked  men  ;  suppose 
you  still  continue  thoughtless  about  the  great  concerns  of 
eternity,  neglect  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  attend  upon  the  means 
of  grace  in  a  careless,  formal  manner ;  suppose  your  hearts 
should  never  be  changed  b^/  the  almighty  power  of  divine 
grace,  but  still  remain  hard,  impenitent,  in  love  with  sin 
and  the  world,  and  destitute  of  the  love  of  God ;  suppose 
you  resist  the  strivings  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  your  own 
consciences,  flatter  yourselves  with  vain  hopes  of  safety, 
and  shut  your  eyes  against  the  light  of  conviction ;  suppose 
you  should  abandon  yourselves  to  the  pursuit  of  this 
world  with  your  usual  eagerness,  and  drown  all  serious 
thoughts  in  the  bustle  and  confusion  of  secular  affairs :  I 
say,  suppose  you  should  take  this  course,  is  there  any  ho|>e  ? 
No ;  in  this  way  there  is  nothing  but  despair.  If  you 
shonld  live  as  long  as  Methuselah,  and  continue  in  this 
course,  you  would  still  continue  wicked,  and  never  become 
more  fit  for  heaven  than  you  now  are ;  nay,  like  a  body 
tending  to  corruption,  you  would  corrupt  and  putrefy  more 
and  more.  Consult  3^our  reason,  consult  your  Bible,  con- 
sult any  thing,  except  the  self-flattering  heart  of  man,  and 
the  father  of  lies  ;  and  they  will  all  tell  you,  that  if  you  per- 
sist in  this  course,  you  shall  surely  die.  I^ot  one  that  ever 
went  on  in  this  course  has  entered  into  heaven  ;  but  in  this 


830  THE  CERTAINTY  OF  DEATH: 


downward  road  those  crowds  persisted,  who  are  now  with 
Judas  and  Dives,  in  the  place  of  torment ;  and  if  you  tread 
in  their  steps,  you  shall  certainly  be  among  them. 

But,  if  you  will  attend,  I  will  endeavor  to  show  you 
what  you  must  do  to  be  saved,  and  point  out  to  you  the 
way  of  life  and  hope.  Hear  me,  0  wicked  man  !  who  art 
under  the  sentence  of  death ;  hear  me,  and  I  will  direct 
thee  how  thou  may  est  procure  a  repeal  of  the  sentence,  and 
live  for  ever.  Blessed  Spirit !  we  need  thy  assistance  in 
this  attempt.  Oh !  bear  home  my  feeble  words  with  re- 
sistless energy  upon  the  hearts  of  sinners,  that  this  day  they 
may  pass  from  death  to  life.  If  you  escape  death  in  its 
most  dreadful  form,  and  enter  into  life,  then, 

First,  Betake  yourselves  immediately  to  serious  thought- 
fulness.  No  more  of  your  levity  and  froth ;  no  more  of 
your  mirth  and  vanity,  and  dissipation  of  thought.  But 
now,  at  last,  begin  to  think ;  to  think  seriously  and  sadly 
of  your  sins,  of  your  guilty  and  wretched  condition,  of 
your  danger  of  being  for  ever  miserable,  and  of  the  best 
means  of  deliverance. 

Secondly,  Break  oif  from  those  things  that  hinder  your 
conversion.  No  more  of  your  drunkenness,  swearing,  and 
other  vices.  No  more  mingle  in  the  company  of  sinners, 
nor  run  with  them  in  the  same  excess  of  riot.  Break  off 
from  your  over-eager  pursuit  of  the  world,  and  act  as  if 
you  thought  it  infinitely  worse  to  be  lost  for  ever  than  to 
be  mean  and  poor  in  this  life.  Read  the  Scriptures,  and 
other  good  books,  and  attend  upon  the  most  faithful 
preaching  as  you  have  opportunity.  Earnestly  pray  to 
God.  If  you  have  hitherto  had  prayerless  families  or 
prayerless  closets,  let  them  be  so  no  longer ;  this  evening, 
consecrate  them  to  God  by  prayer.  Pray,  particularly,  for 
the  Holy  Spirit,  who  alone  can  thoroughly  convert  and 
sanctify  you. 

Thirdly,  Endeavor  to  receive  and  submit  to  the  Lord 
Jesus  as  your  Saviour.  It  is  through  him  alone  you  can 
be  saved ;  therefore  make  use  of  him  as  your  only  media- 
tor, in  all  your  transactions  with  God. 

Finally,  Do  not  delay  to  follow  these  directions.  Alas  ! 
if,  with  Felix,  you  put  it  off  to  a  more  convenient  season, 
there  is  very  little  hope.  "  To-day,  if  ye  will  hear  his 
voice,  harden  not  your  hearts.  Now  is  the  accepted 
time ;  now  is  the  day  of  salvation."     Therefore  now,  this 


A  FUNERAL   SEKMON.  831 

moment,  begin  the  work.  JSTow  dart  up  a  prayer  to 
heaven,  "Lord,  here  is  a  poor,  wicked  creature,  that  must 
die  ere  long,  unless  thou  have'  mercy  upon  me :  have 
mercy  upon  me,  O  thou  God  of  mercy."  Thus  pray,  and 
keep  your  souls,  as  it  were,  always  in  a  praying  posture 
until  you  are  heard. 

And  now,  my  dear  brethren,  what  is  your  resolution 
upon  the  whole  ?  Are  you  resolved  to  use  these  means 
for  your  deliverance,  or  are  you  not  ?  If  you  are,  you 
have  great  reason  to  hope  for  success.  But  if  not,  I  defy 
you  to  find  one  encouraging  word  in  all  the  Bible.  On 
the  other  hand,  I  am  commanded,  upon  my  peril,  to  warn 
you ;  and  therefore  would  once  more  sound  this  dreadful 
alarm  in  your  ears,  "  0  wicked  man,  thou  shalt  surely  die." 
And  if,  when  you  hear  the  words  of  this  curse,  you  bless 
yourselves  in  your  hearts,  and  hope  better  things,  God 
foresaw  there  would  be  such  self-flattering,  presumptuous 
sinners  in  the  world,  and  he  hath  prepared  his  terrors 
against  them.     If  "  there  shall  be  among  you  a  man,  or 

woman,  or  family,  or  tribe a  root  that  beareth  gall  and 

wormwood,  that  when  he  heareth  the  words  of  this  curse, 
shall  bless  himself  in  his  heart,  saying,  I  shall  have  peace, 
though  I  walk  in  the  imagination  of  my  heart :  the  Lord 
will  not  spare  him ;  but  then  the  anger  of  the  Lord  and 
his  jealousy  shall  smoke  against  that  man,  and  all  the 
curses  that  are  written  in  this  book  shall  lie  upon  him ; 
and  the  Lord  shall  blot  out  his  name  from  under  heaven ; 
and  the  Lord  shall  separate  him  unto  evil  out  of  all  the 
tribes  of  Israel.""^  What  a  tremendous  threatening  is  this  I 
and  you  see  it  stands  in  full  force  against  those  that  pre- 
sumptuously flatter  themselves  with  false  hopes  of  impunity, 
whether  they  be  men  or  women,  family  or  tribe :  and  it 
will  certainly  have  a  dreadful  accomplishment  upon  such 
of  you  as  disregard  this  repeated  warning,  "  0  wicked  man, 
thou  shalt  surely  die." 

For  a  more  immediate  improvement  of  this  funeral  occa- 
sion I  would  suggest  a  few  solemn  reflections. 

First :  How  uncertain  and  frail  are  the  nearest  tics  of 
relation,  and  all  our  domestic  and  relative  happiness! 
therefore,  how  much  should  we  be  concerned  to  contract 
immortal  friendships,  and  secure  a  never-dying  happiness ! 

*  Deut.  xxix.  18-21. 


832  EVIDENCES   OF   THE 

Secondly  :  Such  bereavements  should  be  made  occasions 
of  exercising  resignation  to  the  will  of  God. 

Thirdly :  Let  this  instance  of  mortality  put  us  in  mind 
of  our  own.  Shall  others  die  to  warn  us  that  we  must  die ; 
and  shall  the  warning  be  in  vain  ? 

Fourthly :  Let  us  rejoice,  that  though  our  friends  die, 
yet  the  Lord  liveth,  and  blessed  be  our  rock ! 


XXXII. 

EVIDENCES  OF  THE  WANT  OF  LOVE  TO  GOD. 

*'  But  1  know  you,  that  you  have  not  the  love  of  God  in  you." — John,  v.  42. 

Nothing  seems  to  be  a  more  natural  duty  for  a  creature 
— nothing  is  more  essential  to  religion — nothing  more  ne- 
cessary as  a  principle  of  obedience,  or  a  qualification  for 
everlasting  happiness,  than  the  love  of  God ;  and  it  is  uni- 
versally confessed  to  be  so. 

Should  we  consider  only  the  excellency  of  the  divine 
Being,  and  the  numerous  and  endearing  obligations  of  all 
reasonable  creatures  to  him,  we  should  naturally  think 
that  the  love  of  God  must  be  universal  among  mankind  ; 
and  not  one  heart  can  be  destitute  of  that  sacred,  filial  pas- 
sion. But,  alas !  if  we  regard  the  evidence  of  Scripture 
or  observation,  we  must  conclude  the  contrary.  The  love 
of  God  is  a  rare  thing  among  his  own  offspring  in  our  de- 
generate world.  Here,  in  my  text,  a  company  of  Jews, 
highly  privileged  above  all  nations  then  upon  earth,  and 
making  large  professions  of  regard  to  God,  are  charged 
with  the  want  of  his  love ;  charged  by  one  that  thoroughly 
knew  them,  and  could  not  be  deceived.  "  I  know  vou, 
that  you  have  not  the  love  of  God  in  you." 

But,  blessed  be  God,  his  love  is  not  entirely  extinct  and 
lost  even  on  our  guilty  globe.  There  are  some  hearts  that 
feel  the  sacred  flame,  even  among  the  degenerate  sons  of 
Adam. 

These  two  sorts  of  persons  widely  differ  in  their  inward 
temper,  and  God,  who  knows  their  hearts,  makes  a  proper 


WANT   OF   LOVE   TO   GOD.  833 

distinction  between  them.  But  in  this  world  they  are 
mixed — mixed  in  famihes,  and  in  public  assemblies ;  and 
sometimes  the  eyes  of  their  fellow- mortals  can  discern  but 
little  difference ;  and  they  very  often  mistake  their  own 
true  character,  and  rank  themselves  in  that  class  to  which 
they  do  not  belong.  While  they  continue  in  this  mistake, 
the  one  cannot  possess  the  pleasure  either  of  enjoyment  or 
hope  ;  and  the  other  cannot  receive  those  alarms  of  danger 
which  alone  can  rouse  them  out  of  their  ruinous  security, 
nor  earnestly  use  means  for  the  implantation  of  the  sacred 
principle  of  divine  love  in  their  souls.  To  remove  this 
mistake  is  therefore  a  necessary  and  benevolent  attempt; 
benevolent  not  only  to  the  former  sort,  but  even  to  those 
who  are  unwilling  to  submit  to  the  search,  and  who  shut 
their  eyes  against  the  light  of  conviction. 

The  subject  now  before  us  is  this :  Since  it  is  evident 
that  some,  under  the  profession  of  religion,  are  destitute 
of  the  love  of  God ;  and  since  it  is  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance that  we  should  know  our  true  character  in  this  re- 
spect, let  us  inquire  what  are  those  marks  whereby  we  may 
know  whether  the  love  of  God  dwells  in  us  or  not.  Let 
us  follow  this  inquiry  with  impartiality  and  self- applica- 
tion, and  receive  the  conviction  which  may  result  from  it, 
whether  for  or  against  us. 

Now  it  is  evident  that  the  love  of  God  does  not  dwell 
in  you  if  the  native  enmity  of  your  hearts  against  him  has 
not  been  subdued;  if  your  thoughts  and  affections  do  not 
fix  upon  him  with  peculiar  endearment,  above  all  other 
things  ;  if  you  do  not  give  him  and  his  interests  the  pref- 
erence of  all  things  that  may  come  in  competition  with 
him ;  if  you  do  not  labor  for  conformity  to  him ;  if  you 
do  not  converse  with  him  in  his  ordinances,  and  if  you  do 
not  make  it  the  great  business  of  your  lives  to  please  him 
by  keeping  his  commandments. 

First,  The  love  of  God  is  not  in  you,  if  the  native  enmi,ty 
of  your  hearts  against  him  has  not  been  subdued.  This 
will  appear  evident  to  every  one  that  believes  the  Scrip- 
ture account  of  human  nature,  in  its  present  degenerate 
state.  By  nature  we  are  "children  of  wrath;"  and  cer- 
tainly the  children  of  wrath  cannot  be  the  lovers  of  God, 
while  such.  "  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh,  is  flesh,"  and 
they  savor  of  the  flesh,  or,  as  we  render  it,  "the  carnal 
mind  is  enmity  against  God."    And  hence  it  is,  that  "  they 


334  EVIDENCES   OF  THE 

that  are  in  the  flesh  cannot  please  God."  St.  Paul  gives 
this  character  of  the  Colossians,  in  their  natural  state ;  and 
.there  is  no  reason  to  confine  if  to  them :  that  they  "  were 
some  time  alienated  and  enemies  in  their  minds  by  wicked 
works."  In  short,  it  is  evident  from  the  uniform  tenor  of 
the  gospel,  that  it  is  a  dispensation  for  reconciling  enemies 
and  disaffected  rebels  to  God. 

The  authority  of  Scripture  must  be  sufficient  evidence  to 
us,  who  call  ourselves  Christians.  But  this  is  not  all  the 
evidence  we  have  in  this  case.  This  is  a  sensible  matter  of 
fact  and  experience.  For  I  appeal  to  all  of  you  that  have 
the  least  self-acquaintance,  whether  you  are  not  conscious 
that  your  temper  ever  since  you  can  remember,  and  conse- 
quently your  natural  temper,  has  habitually  been  indis- 
posed and  disaffected,  or,  which  is  the  same,  lukewarm  and 
indifferent,  towards  the  blessed  God ;  whether  you  have 
had  the  same  delight  in  him  and  his  service  as  in  many 
other  things  ;  whether  your  earliest  affections  fixed  upon 
him  with  all  the  reverence  and  endearment  of  a  filial  heart. 
You  cannot  but  know  the  answer  to  such  inquiries  will  be 
against  you,  and  convince  you  that  you  are  by  nature  ene- 
mies to  the  God  that  made  you,  however  much  you  have 
flattered  yourselves  to  the  contrary. 

Now,  it  is  most  evident,  that  since  you  are  by  nature 
enemies  to  God,  your  natural  enmity  to  him  must  be  sub- 
dued;  or,  in  the  language  of  the  New  Testament,  you  must 
be  reconciled  to  him  before  you  can  be  lovers  of  him.  And 
have  you  ever  felt  such  a  change  of  temper  ?  I  will  not 
say  that  every  one  who  has  exj^erienced  this  is  assured 
that  it  is  a  real  sufficient  change,  and  that  he  is  now  a  sin- 
cere lover  of  God  ;  but  this  I  will  say,  and  this  is  obvious 
to  common  sense,  that  every  one  who  has  experienced  this, 
is  assured  that  he  has  felt  a  great  change  of  some  kind  or 
other^  and  that  his  temper  towards  God  is  not  the  same 
now  as  it  once  was.  This,  therefore,  may  be  a  decisive 
evidence  to  you.  If  divine  grace  has  never  changed  your 
temper  towards  God,  but  you  continue  still  the  same,  you 
may  be  sure  the  love  of  God  is  not  in  you.  And  if  this 
change  has  been  wrought,  you  have  felt  it.  It  was  'preceded 
by  a  glaring  conviction  of  your  enmity,  and  the  utmost 
horror  and  detestation  of  yourselves  upon  the  account  of  it. 
It  was  attended  with  affecting  views  of  the  attractive  excel- 
lences of  God,  and  of  jovcc  obligations  to  him ;  and  with 


WANT  OF  LOVE   TO   GOD.  835 

those  tender  and  affectionate  emotions  of  heart  towards 
him,  which  the  passion  of  love  always  includes.  And  it 
was  followed  with  a  cheerful  universal  dedication  of  your- 
selves to  God  and  his  service.  And  does  conscience  (for 
to  that  I  now  address)  speak  in  your  favor  in  this  inquiry? 
Listen  to  its  voice  as  the  voice  of  God. 

Secondly,  It  is  evident  that  ye  have  not  the  love  of  God 
in  you,  if  your  thoughts  and  affections  do  not  fix  upon  him 
with  affectionate  endearment  above  all  other  things.  This 
is  so  obvious  to  common  sense,  that  I  need  not  take  up 
your  time  with  Scripture  quotations ;  for  you  would  not 
have  the  face  to  profess  to  a  person  that  you  loved  him,  if 
in  the  mean  time  you  have  told  him  that  he  had  little  or  no 
share  in  your  thoughts  and  affections.  You  know  by  ex- 
perience your  affectionate  thoughts  will  eagerly  pursue  the 
object  of  your  lov-e  over  wide-extended  countries  and 
oceans,  and  that  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  your  love. 
ISTow  if  every  degree  of  love  will  engage  a  proportionable 
degree  of  your  affectionate  thoughts,  can  you  imagine  that 
you  may  love  God  in  the  highest  degree,  and  yet  hardly  ever 
have  one  affectionate  thought  of  him  ?  And  is  it  not  as 
evident  to  some  of  you,  as  almost  any  thing  you  know  of 
yourselves,  that  your  affectionate  thoughts  are  not  fre- 
quently fixed  upon  the  blessed  God  ?  N^ay ;  are  you  not 
conscious  that  your  thoughts  fly  off  from  this  object,  and 
pursue  a  thousand  other  things  with  more  eagerness  and 
pleasure  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  you  can  give  your  hearts 
a  loose  for  days  and  weeks  together,  to  pursue  some  favor- 
ite creature,  without  once  calling  them  off  to  think  seriously 
and  affectionately  upon  the  ever-blessed  God.  You  may 
have  many  commendable  qualities — you  may  have  many 
splendid  appearances  of  virtue — ^you  may  have  done  many 
actions  materially  good;  but  it  is  evident,  to  a  demon- 
stration, that  the  love  of  God,  the  first  principle  and  root 
of  all  true  religion  and  virtue,  is  not  in  you. 

Thirdly,  The  love  of  God  is  not  in  you,  unless  you  give 
him  and  his  interests  the  preference  above  all  other 
things. 

If  you  love  God  at  all  in  sincerity^  you  love  him  above  all. 
And  as  the  consequence  of  this,  that  if  you  love  him  at  all, 
you  will  give  him  and  his  interests  the  preference  before 
all  things  that  may  come  in  competition  with  him.  You 
will  cleave,  with  a  pious  obstinacy,  to  that  which  he  enjoins 


836  EVIDENCES   OF   THE 

■upon  you,  whatever  be  the  consequence ;  and  you  will 
cheerfully  resign  all  your  other  interests,  however  dear, 
when  they  clash  with  his. 

I  beg  you  would  examine  yourselves  by  this  text ;  for 
here  lies  the  dangerous  delusion  of  multitudes.  Multitudes 
find  it  easy  to  flatter  themselves  that  they  love  God  above 
all  creatures,  while,  in  the  mean  time,  they  will  hardly  part 
with  any  thing  for  his  sake  that  their  own  imaginary  in- 
terest recommends  to  them.  But  this  is  made  the  decisive 
test  by  Christ  himself  "  If  any  man  come  unto  me,  and 
hate  not  his  father,  and  mother,  and  wife,  and  children,  and 
brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he  cannot 
be  my  disciple."  By  hating  these  dear  relatives,  and  even 
life  itself,  Jesus  does  not  mean  positive  hatred ;  for  in  a 
subordinate  degree  it  is  our  duty  to  love  them ;  but  he 
means,  that  every  sincere  disciple  of  his,  must  act  as  if  he 
hated  all  these,  when  they  come  in  competition  with  his 
infinitely  dearer  Lord  and  Saviour ;  that  is,  he  must  part 
with  them  all,  as  we  do  with  things  that  are  hateful  to  us. 
This  was,  in  fact,  the  effect  of  this  love  in  St.  Paul.  "What 
things  were  gain  to  me,  those,"  says  he,  "  I  counted  loss  for 
Christ ;  yea,  doubtless,  and  1  count  all  things  but  loss  for 
the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord ; 
for  whom  I  have  actually  suffered  the  loss  of  all  things,  and  do 
count  them  but  dung,  that  I  may  win  Christ." 

Although  this  severe  trial  should  never  come  in  your 
way,  yet  from  your  conduct  in  lesser  trials,  you  may  judge 
how  you  would  behave  in  greater.  Therefore,  inquire, 
when  the  pleasures  of  sin  and  your  duty  to  God  interfere, 
which  do  you  part  with  ?  When  the  will  of  God  and  your 
own  will  clash,  which  do  you  obey?  When  the  pleasing 
of  God  and  the  pleasing  of  men  come  in  competition,  which 
do  you  choose?  When  you  must  deny  yourself  or  deny 
your  Saviour,  which  do  you  submit  to  ?  What  is  your 
liabitual  conduct  in  such  trying  circumstances  ?  Do  you 
in  such  cases  give  to  God  and  his  interests  the  preference 
in  your  practice  ?  If  not,  your  pretended  love  is  repro- 
bated, and  appears  to  be  counterfeit. 

Fourthly,  The  love  of  God  is  not  in  you,  if  you  do  not 
labor  for  conformity  to  him. 

Conformity  to  him  is  at  once  the  duty  and  the  peculiar 
character  of  every  sincere  lover  of  God.  "Be  ye  holy,  as 
I  am  holy,"  is  a  duty  repeatedly  enjoined ;  and  all  the  heirs 


WANT   OF   LOVE    TO   GOD.  337 

of  glory  are  characterized  as  being  "  conformed  to  the 
image  of  Grod's  dear  Son."  If  we  love  him,  nothing  will 
satisfy  us  till  we  awake  in  his  likeness.  Now,  my  brethren, 
does  your  love  stand  this  test  ?  Have  you  been  renewed 
in  knowledge,  righteousness,  and  true  holiness  after  the 
image  of  him  that  created  you  ?  And  is  it  the  honest  en- 
deavor of  your  life  to  be  holy  in  all  manner  of  conversa- 
tion, holy  as  God  is  holy  ?  Since  your  conformity  to  him 
consists  in  holiness,  let  me  beg  you  to  inquire  again,  Do 
you  delight  in  holiness  ?  Is  it  the  great  business  of  your 
life  to  improve  in  it  ?  And  are  your  deficiencies  the  bur- 
den of  your  spirits  and  matter  of  daily  lamentation  and 
repentance  concerning  yourselves,  that  this  is  not  your 
habitual  character,  and,  consequently,  that  the  love  of  God 
is  not  in  you  ? 

Fifthly,  You  have  not  the  love  of  God  in  you  if  you  do 
not  delight  to  converse  with  him  in  his  ordinances. 

I  need  not  tell  you  that  friends  are  fond  of  interviews 
and  delight  in  each  others'  company.  Now  God  has  been 
so  condescending  as  to  represent  his  ordinances  as  so 
many  places  of  interviews  for  his  people,  where  they  may 
meet  with  him,  or,  in  the  Scripture  phrase,  draio  near  to 
him,  appear  before  him,  and  carry  on  a  spiritual  intercourse 
with  him.  Hence  it  is  that  they  delight  in  his  ordinances ; 
that  they  love  to  pray,  to  hear,  to  meditate,  to  commemo- 
rate the  death  of  Christ,  and  to  draw  near  to  the  throne  of 
grace  in  all  the  ways  in  which  it  is  accessible.  These 
appear  to  them  not  only  duties  but  privileges — exalted 
and  delightful  privileges,  which  sweeten  their  pilgrimage 
through  this  wilderness  and  sometimes  transforms  it  into 
a  paradise.  Now  will  you,  my  brethren,  stand  this  test? 
Have  you  found  it  good  for  you  to  draw  near  to  God  in 
these  institutions  ?  Or  are  you  not  indisposed  and  disaffected 
to  them  ?  Do  not  some  of  you  generally  neglect  them  ?  or 
is  not  your  attendance  upon  them  an  insipid,  spiritless 
formality  ?  Have  not  some  of  you  prayerless  closets,  pray- 
erless  families  ?  And  if  you  attend  upon  public  worship 
once  a  week,  is  it  not  rather  that  you  may  observe  an  old 
custom,  that  you  may  see  and  be  seen,  or  that  you  may 
transact  some  temporal  business,  than  that  you  may  con- 
verse with  God  in  his  ordinances  ?  In  short,  is  it  not  evi- 
dent, that  devotion  is  not  your  delight,  and,  consequently, 
not  your  daily  practice 


388  EVIDENCES   OF  THE 

Sixthly,  The  love  of  God  is  not  in  you,  unless  you  make 
it  tlie  great  business  of  your  lives  to  please -him  by  keep- 
ing his  commandments.  It  is  natural  to  us  to  seek  to 
please  those  we  love,  and  to  obey  them  with  pleasure  if 
they  be  invested  with  authority  to  command  us.  If  you 
love  Grod  you  will  habitually  keep  his  commandments, 
and  that  with  pleasure  and  delight.  But  if  you  can  habit- 
ually indulge  yourselves  in  willful  disobedience  in  any  one 
instance,  or  if  you  yield  obedience  through  constraint,  it  is 
demonstration  against  you  that  you  are  destitute  of  his 
love.  This  is  as  plain  as  any  thing  in  the  whole  Bible. 
"  If  ye  love  me,"  says  Christ  himself,  "  keep  my  command- 
ments." "If  any  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words; 
he  that  loveth  me  not,  keepeth  not  my  sayings."  "  Ye  are 
my  friends  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you."  "  This 
is  the  love  of  Grod,"  says  St.  John,  "  that  ye  keep  his  com- 
mandments," and  "  his  commandments  are  not  grievous." 
Keeping  his  commandments  is  not  grievous  when  love  is 
the  principle.  You  see,  my  brethren,  that  obedience,  cheer- 
ful, unconstrained  obedience,  is  the  grand  test  of  your  love 
to  God.  There  is  more  stress  laid  upon  this  in  the  Word 
of  God,  than,  perhaps,  upon  any  other,  and  therefore  you 
should  regard  it  the  more.  Now  recollect,  is  there  not  at 
least  some  favorite  sin  which  you  willfully  and  knowingly 
indulge  yourselves  in?  And  are  there  not  some  self-deny- 
ing, mortifying  duties  which  you  dare  to  omit  ?  And  yet 
you  pretend  that  you  love  God !  You  pretend  that  you 
love  him,  though  your  love  is  directly  opposite  to  this 
grand  test  which  himself  has  appointed  to  try  it.  You 
may  have  your  excuses  and  evasions  ;  you  may  plead  the 
goodness  of  your  hearts,  even  when  your  practice  is  bad ; 
you  may  plead  the  strength  of  temptation,  the  frailty  of 
your  nature,  and  a  thousand  other  things ;  but  plead  what 
you  will,  this  is  an  eternal  truth,  that  if  you  habitually  and 
willfully  live  in  disobedience  to  the  commandments  of  God 
you  are  entirely  destitute  of  his  love. 

And  now,  upon  a  review  of  the  whole,  what  do  you 
think  of  yourselves?  Does  the  love  of  God  dwell  in  you, 
or  does  it  not  ?  that  is,  do  those  characters  of  the  want  of 
love  belong  to  you^  or  do  they  not  ?  If  they  do,  it  is  all 
absurdity  and  delusion  for  you  to  flatter  yourselves  that 
you  love  him ;  for  it  is  all  one  as  if  you  should  say,  ''  Lord, 
I  love  thee,  though  my  native  enmity  against  thee  still  re- 


WANT   OF   LOVE   TO   GOD.  339 

mains  unsubdued.  I  love  thee  above  all,  though  my 
thoua:hts  and  affections  are  scattered  among"  other  thinirs, 
and  never  fixed  upon  thee.  I  love  thee  above  all,  though 
I  prefer  a  thousand  things  to  thee  and  thy  interest."  And 
will  God,  do  you  think,  accept  that  as  supreme  love  to 
him  which  will  not  pass  current  for  common  friendship 
among  mortals  ?  Is  he  capable  of  being  imposed  upon  by 
such  inconsistent  pretensions  ?  ISTo :  "  be  not  deceived ; 
God  is  not  mocked."  Draw  the  peremptory  conclusion, 
without  any  hesitation,  that  the  love  of  God  does  not  dwell 
in  you. 

And  if  this  be  the  case,  what  do  you  think  of  it?  What 
a  soul  have  you  within  you,  that  cannot  love  God — that 
cannot  love  supreme  excellence,  and  all-perfect  beauty — 
that  cannot  love  the  origin  and  author  of  all  the  excellence 
and  beauty  that  you  see  scattered  among  the  works  of  his 
hands — that  cannot  love  your  prime  benefactor  and  gra- 
cious Redeemer — that  cannot  love  him  "in  whom  you  live, 
and  move,  and  have  your  being;  in  whose  hand  your 
breath  is,  and  whose  are  all  your  ways,"  and  who  alone  is 
the  proper  happiness  for  your  immortal  spirit — that  can 
love  a  pprent,  a  child,  a  friend,  with  all  their  infirmities 
about  them,  but  cannot  love  God — that  can  love  the  world 
— that  can  love  sensual  and  even  guilty  enjoyments,  pleas- 
ures, riches,  and  honors,  and  yet  cannot  love  God  ! — that 
can  love  every  thing  that  is  lovely  but  God,  who  is  infi- 
nitely lovely — that  can  love  wisdom,  justice,  veracity, 
goodness,  clemency  in  creatures,  were  they  are  attended 
with  many  imperfections,  and  yet  cannot  love  God,  where 
they  all  centre  and  shine  in  the  highest  perfection ! 

If  love  be  the  fulfilling  of  the  whole  law,  then  the  want 
of  love  must  be  the  breach  of  the  whole  law.  You  break 
it  all  at  one  blow,  and  vour  life  is  but  one  continued,  uni- 
form,  uninterrupted  series  of  sinning.  The  want  of  love 
takes  away  all  spirit  and  life  from  all  your  religious 
services,  and  diffuses  a  malignity  through  all  you  do.  With- 
out the  love  of  God  you  may  pray,  you  may  receive  the 
sacrament,  you  may  perform  the  outward  part  of  every 
duty  of  religion ;  you  may  be  just  and  charitable,  and  do 
no  man  any  harm  ;  you  may  be  sober  and  temperate ;  but 
without  the  love  of  God  you  cannot  do  one  action  that  is 
truly  and  formally  good  and  acceptable  to  God. 

Kow  I  appeal  to  yourselves,  is  not  this  a  very  danger- 


840       EVIDENCES   OF   THE   WANT   OF   LOVE   TO   GOD. 

ous  situation  ?  While  you  are  destitute  of  the  love  of  God 
can  you  flatter  yourselves  that  you  are  fit  for  heaven  ? 
What !  fit  for  the  region  of  love !  fit  to  converse  with  a 
holy  Grod,  and  live  for  ever  in  his  presence  ?  Fit  to  spend 
an  eternity  in  his  service  !  Can  you  be  fit  for  these  things 
while  you  have  no  love  to  him  ?  Certainly  not ;  you  must 
perceive  yourselves  fit  for  destruction,  and  fit  for  nothing 
else. 

And  now,  what  must  you  do,  when  this  shocking  con- 
viction has  forced  itself  upon  you  ?  Must  you  now  give 
up  all  hopes  ?  Must  you  now  despair  of  ever  having  the 
love  of  Grod  kindled  in  your  hearts  ?  Yes ;  you  may, 
you  must  give  up  all  hopes ;  you  must  despair,  if  you  go 
on,  aa  you  have  hitherto  done,  thoughtless,  careless,  and 
presumptuous  in  sin,  and  in  the  neglect  of  the  means  which 
God  has  appointed  to  implant  and  cherish  this  divine, 
heaven-born  principle  in  your  souls.  This  is  the  direct 
course  towards  remediless,  everlasting  despair.  But  if  you 
now  admit  the  conviction  of  your  miserable  condition ;  if 
you  endeavor  immediately  to  break  off  from  sin,  and  from 
every  thing  that  tends  to  harden  you  in  it ;  if  you 
turn  your  minds  to  serious  meditation ;  if  you  prostrate 
yourselves  as  humble,  earnest  petitioners  before  God, 
and  continue  instant  in  prayer ;  if  you  use  every  other 
means  of  grace  ordained  for  this  purpose ;  I  say,  if  you 
take  this  course,  there  is  hope — there  is  hope  !  There 
is  as  much  hope  for  you  as  there  once  was  for  any  one  of 
that  glorious  company  of  saints,  now  in  heaven,  while  they 
were  as  destitute  of  the  love  of  God  as  any  of  you.  And 
Avill  you  not  take  these  pains  to  save  your  own  souls  from 
death  ?  Many  have  taken  more,  to  save  the  souls  of  oth- 
ers, and  you  have  taken  a  great  deal  to  obtain  the  transi- 
tory, perishing  enjoyments  of  this  life.  And  will  jou. 
take  no  pains  for  your  own  immortal  interests  ?  O  let  me 
prevail,  let  even  a  stranger  prevail  upon  you,  to  lay  out 
your  endeavors  upon  this  grand  concern.  I  must  insist 
upon  it,  and  can  take  no  denial.  This  is  not  the  peculiar- 
ity of  a  party  I  am  urging  upon  you.  Is  it  Presbyterian- 
ism,  or  new  light,  that  tells  you  you  cannot  be  saved  with- 
out the  love  of  God  ?  Churchmen  and  dissenters,  Protest- 
ants and  Papists,  nay,  Jews,  Mahometans,  and  pagans  agree 
in  this,  that  the  love  of  God  is  essential  to  all  true  religion  ; 
and  if  you  entertain  hopes  of  heaven  without  it,  the  com- 


THE   HOPE    OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS.  341 

mon  sense  of  mankind  is  against  you.     Therefore,  0  seek 
to  have  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  your  hearts. 


XXXIII. 


THE  OBJECTS,  GROUNDS,  AND  EVIDENCES  OF  THE  HOPE  OF 
THE  RIGHTEOUS. 

"  The  wicked  is  driven  away  in  his  wickedness ;  but  the  righteous  hath 
hope  in  his  death." — Prov.  xiv.  32. 

To  creatures  that  are  placed  here  a  few  years  upon  trial 
for  an  everlasting  state,  it  is  of  the  greatest  importance 
how  they  make  their  departure  hence.  The  gloomy  hour 
of  death  is  nature's  last  extremity  ;  it  stands  in  need  of 
some  effectual  support,  and  that  support  can  proceed  from 
nothing  then  present,  but  only  from  reviews  and  prospects : 
from  the  review  of  past  life,  so  spent  as  to  answer  the  end 
of  life,  and  from  the  prospect  of  a  happy  immortality  to 
follow  upon  this  last  struggle. 

Now  men  will  love  the  world  according  to  their  conduct 
in  it,  and  be  happy  or  miserable  hereafter  according  to 
their  improvement  of  the  present  state  of  trial.  "The 
wicked  is  driven  away  Si  his  wickedness,"  says  the  vfisest 
of  men,  "but  the  righteous  hath  hope  in  his  death." 
"  The  wicked  is  driven  away  in  his  wickedness" — he  dies 
as  he  lived  :  he  lived  in  wickedness,  and  in  wickedness  he 
dies.  His  wickedness  remains  with  him,  when  his  earthly 
enjoyments,  his  friends,  and  all  created  comforts  leave  him 
for  ever.  The  guilt  of  his  wickedness  lies  heavy  upon 
him,  like  a  mountain  of  lead,  ready  to  sink  him  into  the 
depth  of  misery.  And  the  principles  of  wickedness  which 
he  indulged  in  his  life  still  live  within  him,  even  in  the 
agonies  of  death ;  nay,  they  now  arrive  at  a  dreadful  im- 
mortality, and  produce  an  eternal  hell  in  his  breast.  He 
leaves  behind  him  not  only  all  his  earthly  comforts,  but 
all  the  little  remains  of  goodness  he  seeuied  to  have,  while 
under  the  restraints  of  divine  grace,  and  he  carries  nothing 
but  his  wickedness  along  with  him.  With  this  dreadful 
attendant  he  must  pass  to  the  tribunal  of  his  Judge.     To 


842  THE   OBJECTS,    GROUNDS,    AND   EVIDENCES 

leave  liis  earthly  all  beliind  him,  and  die  iu  the  agonies  of 
dissolving  nature — this  is  terrible.  But  to  die  in  his  wick- 
edness— this  is  inlinitclj  the  most  terrible  of  all! 

He  once  flattered  himself,  that  though  he  lived  in  wick- 
edness, he  should  not  die  in  it.  He  adopted  many  resolu- 
tions to  amend  and  forsake  his  wickedness,  towards  the 
close  of  life,  or  upon  a  death-bed.  But  how  is  he  disap- 
pointed ?  After  all  his  promising  purposes  and  hopes,  he 
died  as  he  lived,  in  wickedness.  This  is  generally  the  case 
of  veterans  in  sin.  They  are  resolving  and  re-resolving  to 
reform  all  their  lives,  but  after  all  they  die  the  same.  They 
purpose  to  prepare  for  death  and  eternity,  but  they  have 
always  some  objections  against  the  present  time.  They 
have  always  something  else  to  do  to-day,  and  therefore 
they  put  off  this  work  till  to-morrow — to-morrow  comes, 
and  instead  of  reforming,  they  die  in  their  wickedness — 
to-morrow  comes  and  they  are  in  hell.  Oh !  that  the  loi- 
terers of  this  generation  would  take  warning  from  the  ruin 
of  thousands  of  their  unhappy  ancestors  who  have  perished 
by  the  dread  experiment !  Hearers,  are  not  some  of  you 
in  danger  of  splitting  upon  the  same  rock  ?  Are  not  some 
of  you  conscious  that  if  you  should  die  this  moment  you 
would  die  in  your  wickedness  ?  And  yet  you  have  very 
little  fear  of  dying  in  this  manner.  No ;  you  purpose  yet 
to  become  good,  and  prepare  for  death  before  you  die.  So 
thousands  purposed  as  strongly  as  you,  who  are  now  in 
hell.  The  time  of  repentance  was  still  a  hereafter  to  them, 
till  it  was  irrecoverably  past.  They  were  snatched  away 
unexpectedly  by  the  sudden  hand  of  death,  and  knew  not 
where  they  were  till  they  found  themselves  in  eternity, 
and  thus  they  had  no  time  for  this  work ;  or  their  thoughts 
were  so  much  engrossed  with  their  pains  that  they  had  no 
composure  for  it ;  or  they  found  their  sins,  by  long  in- 
dulgence, were  become  invincibly  strong,  their  hearts 
judicially  hardened,  and  all  the  influences  of  divine  grace 
withdrawn,  so  that  the  work  became  impossible.  And 
thus  they  died  in  their  sins. 

"  The  wicked  is  driven  away  in  his  wickedness" — driven 
away  in  spite  of  all  his  reluctance.  Let  him  cling  to  life 
never  so  fast,  yet  he  must  go.  All  his  struggles  are  vain, 
and  cannot  add  one  moment  to  his  daj^'S.  Indeed,  the 
wicked  have  so  little  taste  for  heaven,  and  are  so  much  in 
love  with  this  world,  that  if  they  leave  it  at  all,  they  must 


OF  THE   HOPE   OF   THE    RIGHTEOUS.  843 

be  driven  out  of  it — driven  out  of  it  whetlier  they  will  or 
not.  When  they  hope  for  heaven,  they  do  in  reality  con- 
sider it  but  a  shift  or  a  refuge  when  they  can  no  longer 
live  in  this  their  favorite  world.  They  do  not  at  all  desire 
it,  in  comparison  with  this  world.  But  they  must  event- 
ually let  go  their  hold.  They  must  be  driven  away,  like 
chaff  before  .the  whirlwind — driven  away  into  the  regions 
of  misery — into  the  regions  of  misery,  I  say  ;  for  certainly 
the  happiness  of  heaven  was  never  intended  for  such  as 
are  so  disaffected  to  it,  and  that  prefer  this  wretched  world, 
with  all  its  cares  and  sorrows,  before  heaven  itself 

This  is  the  certain  doom  of  the  wicked ;  but  who  are 
they  ?  Though  the  character  be  so  common  among  us, 
yet  there  are  few  that  will  own  it.  It  is  an  odious  charac- 
ter, and  therefore  few  will  take  it  to  themselves.  But  there 
is  no  room  for  flattery  in  the  case,  and,  therefore,  we  must 
inquire  who  are  the  wicked  ?  I  answer,  all  that  habitually 
indulge  themselves  in  the  practice  of  any  known  wicked- 
ness— all  that  neglect  the  God  that  made  them,  and  the 
Saviour  that  bought  them — all  that  live  in  the  willful 
omission  of  the  known  duties  of  religion  and  morality — • 
all  that  have  never  known  by  experience  what  it  is  to 
repent  and  believe ;  in  a  word,  all  that  are  in  their  natural 
state,  and  have  never  felt  a  change  of  spirit  and  practice, 
so  great  and  important  that  it  may  be  called,  with  pro- 
priety, a  new  birth,  or  a  new  creation — all  such,  without 
exception,  are  wicked.  They  are  wicked  in  reality  and  in 
the  sight  of  God,  however  righteous  they  may  be  in  their 
own  eyes,  or  however  unblamably  some  of  them  may  con- 
duct themselves  before  men.  And  are  there  not  some  such. 
in  this  assembly  ?  Is  this  assembly  so  glorious  and  happy 
a  rarity  as  not  to  have  one  wicked  person  in  it  ?  Alas !  I 
am  afraid  the  most  generous  charity  cannot  indulge  such 
a  hope.  May  you  make  an  impartial  inquiry  into  a  matter 
so  important !  and  if  you  find  the  character  of  the  wicked 
yours,  believe  it,  you  must  share  in  the  dreadful  doom  of 
the  wicked  if  you  continue  such. 

But  I  proceed  to  that  part  of  my  text,  which  I  intend 
to  make  the  principal  subject  of  this  discourse.  "  The 
righteous  hath  hope  in  his  death."  To  have  hope  in  death 
is  to  have  liope  in  the  most  desperate  extremity  of  human 
natu]"e.  Then  the  spirits  flag  and  the  heart  sinks,  and  all 
the  sanguine    hopes  of  blooming   health  and    prosperity 


344  THE   OBJECTS,    GROUNDS,   AND   EVIDENCES 

vanish.  Then  all  hopes  from  things  below — all  expecta- 
tions of  happiness  from  all  things  under  the  sun,  are  cut 
off.  All  hopes  of  escaping  the  arrest  of  death  are  fled 
when  the  iron  grasp  of  its  cold  hand  is  felt.  Even  in  these 
hopeless  circumstances  the  righteous  man  hath  hope.  The 
foundation  of  his  hope  must  be  well  laid,  it  must  be  firm 
indeed  when  it  can  stand  such  shocks  as  these.  It  is 
evident  the  objects  of  this  hope  must  lie  beyond  the  grave; 
for  on  this  side  of  it  all  is  hopeless.  His  friends  and  phy- 
sician despair  of  him,  and  he  despairs  of  himself  as  to  all 
the  prospects  of  the  mortal  life.  But  he  does  not  despair 
of  a  happier  life  in  another  state ;  no,  he  hopes  to  live  and 
,  be  happy,  when  the  agonies  of  death  are  over ;  and  this 
hope  bears  him  up  under  them.  This  hope  I  intend  to 
consider  as  to  its  objects,  its  grounds  and  evidences,  and 
its  various  degrees  and  limitations. 

First,  I  am  to  consider  the  objects  of  the  righteous  man's 
hope  in  death.  And  here  I  shall  only  mention  his  hope 
of  support  in  death — of  the  immortality  of  the  soul — of 
the  resurrection  of  his  body — and  of  perfect  happiness  in 
heaven. 

In  the  first  place,  The  righteous  man  has  a  humble  hope 
of  support  in  death.  He  has  repeatedly  intrusted  himself 
\  into  the  faithful  hands  of  an  almighty  Saviour  for  life  and 
'  death,  for  time  and  eternity,  and  he  humbly  hopes  his 
Saviour  will  not  forsake  him  now — now,  when  he  must 
need  his  assistance.  This  was  St.  Paul's  support  under 
the  prospect  of  his  last  hour  :  "  I  know  in  whom  I  have 
believed,  and  I  am  persuaded  he  is  able  to  keep  that  I 
have  committed  unto  him  against  that  day."  As  if  he  had 
said,  finding  my  own  weakness,  I  have  committed  my  all 
into  another  hand ;  and  I  have  committed  it  to  one  whose 
ability  and  faithfulness  have  been  tried  by  thousands,  as 
well  as  myself;  and  therefore  I  am  confident  he  will  keep 
the  sacred  depositum,  and  never  suffer  it  to  be  injured  or 
lost.  This  was  also  the  support  of  the  Psalmist ;  "  Though 
I  walk,"  says  he,  "  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art  with  me."  Yea,  it 
was  upon  this  support  St.  Paul  leaned  when  he  braved 
death,  in  that  triumphant  language,  "  Who  shall  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  God?  Shall  tribulation,  or  distress, 
or  persecution,  or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril,  or  sword? 
No ;  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than  conquerors, 


OF   THE   HOPE    OF    THE   RIGHTEOUS.  345 

through  him  that  loved  us  ;  for,  I  am  persuaded,"  says  he, 
"that  death," — that  separates  our  souls  and  bodies — that 
separates  friend  from  friend — ^that  separates  us  from  all 
our  earthly  comforts,  and  breaks  all  our  connections  with 
this  world,  even  death  itself  "«hall  never  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus."  What  a  faith- 
ful friend,  what  a  powerful  guardian  is  this,  who  stands  by 
his  people,  and  bears  them  up  in  their  last  extremity,  and 
makes  them  more  than  conquerors  in  the  struggle  with 
the  all-conquering  enemy  of  mankind !  How  peculiar  a 
happiness  is  this,  to  be  able  to  enjoy  the  comfort  of  hope, 
in  the  wreck  of  human  nature !  How  sweet  to  lean  a  dy- 
ing head  upon  the  kind  arm  of  an  almighty  Saviour !  how 
"sweet  to  intrust  a  departing  soul  into  his  faithful  hand ! 
O  may  you  and  I  enjoy  this  blessed  support  in  a  dying 
hour !  and  may  we  make  it  our  great  business  in  life  to 
secure  it !  In  that  gloomy  hour,  our  friends  may  weep 
around  our  beds ;  but  they  can  afford  us  no  help — no  hope ! 
But  Jesus  can,  as  thousands  have  known  by  experience. 
Then  he  can  bear  home  his  promises  upon  the  heart ;  then 
he  can  communicate  his  love,  which  is  better  than  life, 
and  by  his  holy  Spirit  bear  up  and  encourage  the  sinking 
soul !     Blessed  Jesus  !  what  friend  can  compare  to  thee  ? 

"  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 

Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are ; 
"While  on  his  breast  I  lean  my  head, 
And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there." — Watts. 

But,  secondly,  The  immortality  of  the  soul  is  an  object  of 
the  righteous  man's  hope.  He  is  not,  like  Bolingbroke 
and  other  infidels,  who,  having  made  it  their  interest  that 
there  should  be  no  future  state,  consider  immortality  as  an 
object  of  fear,  and  therefore  try  to  reason  themselves  out 
of  the  belief  of  it,  and  choose  to  ingulf  themselves  in  the 
abyss  of  annihilation.  It  is  not  the  force  of  argument  that 
drives  infidels  to  this.  Demonstration  and  certainty  were 
never  so  much  as  pretended  for  it.  And  after  all  the  pre- 
posterous pains  they  take  to  work  themselves  up  to  the 
gloomy  hope,  that  when  they  die  they  shall  escape  punish- 
ment by  the  loss  of  all  the  sweets  of  existence ;  yet,  if  I 
may  venture  to  guess  at  and  divulge  the  secret,  they  are 
often  alarmed  with  the  dreadful  may-he  of  a  future  state. 
In  their  solemn  and  thoughtful  moments  their  hope  wa- 
vers, and  they  fear  they  shall  not  be  more  happy  than  a 


S4:6  THE  OBJECTS,    GROUNDS,   AND   EVIDENCES 

dog  or  a  stone  when  they  die.  Unhappy  creatures !  how- 
are  they  to.be  pitied !  and  were  it  not  for  the  universal 
benevolence  of  that  religion  which  they  despise,  how  justly 
would  they  be  contemned  and  abhorred  !  They  are  men 
of  pleasure  now;  they  are  merry,  jovial,  and  gay,  and  give 
a  loose  to  all  their  licentious  passions  and  appetites.  But 
how  short,  how  sordid,  how  brutal  the  pleasure!  how 
gloomy,  how  low,  how  shocking  their  highest  hope ! 
Their  highest  hope  is  to  be  as  much  nothing  in  a  few 
years  or  moments  hence  as  they  were  ten  thousand  years 
ago.  They  are  men  of  pleasure,  who  would  lose  all  their 
pleasures  if  they  were  angels  in  heaven,  but  would  lose 
none  of  them  if  they  were  swine  in  the  mire.  Blessed  be 
God,  this  gloomy  hope  is  not  the  hope  which  the  religion 
of  Jesus  inspires.  No,  "He  hath  brought  life  and  immor- 
tality to  light  by  the  gospel."  He  opens  to  the  departing 
soul  the  endless  prospects  of  a  future  state  of  being — a 
state  where  death  shall  no  more  make  such  havoc  and 
desolations  among  the  works  of  God,  but  where  every 
thing  is  vital  and  immortal.  Hence  the  righteous  man 
hath  hope  in  his  death.  He  has  not  made  it  best  for  him 
that  his  religion  should  be  false.  He  is  not  driven  to  seek 
for  shelter  in  the  gulf  of  annihilation,  nor  to  combat  with 
the  blessed  hopes  which  reason  and  revelation  unitedly 
inspire  as  his  worst  enemies.  He  wishes  and  hopes  to  live 
for  ever,  that  he  may  for  ever  enjoy  the  generous  pleasure 
of  serving  his  God,  and  doing  good  to  his  fellow-creatures. 
This  is  not  a  pleasing  error,  but  a  pleasing  truth  ;  nay,  I 
had  almost  said,  a  pleasing  demonstration.  Such  it  proves 
to  the  righteous  man ;  for  oh !  how  pleasing  to  the  off- 
spring of  the  dust  to  claim  immortality  as  his  inalienable 
inheritance !  How  transporting  to  a  soul  just  ready  to 
take  its  flight  from  the  quivering  lips  of  the  dissolving 
clay  to  look  forward  through  everlasting  ages  of  felicity 
and  call  them  all  its  own  !  to  defy  the  stroke  of  death,  and 
smile  at  the  impotent  malice  of  the  gaping  grave  !  O  what 
a  happiness,  what  a  privilege  is  this !  and  this  is  what  the 
righteous  man  in  some  measure  enjoys. 

Thirdly,  The  righteous  in  death  has  the  hope  of  the 
resurrection  of  the  body.  This  glorious  hope  we  owe  en- 
tirely to  revelation.  The  ancient  philosophers  could 
never  discover  it  by  their  reason ;  and  when  it  was  dis- 
covered by  a  superior  light,  they  ridiculed  it  as  the  hope 


OF   THE   HOPE   OF    THE   RIGHTEOUS.  847 

of  worms.  But  this  is  a  reviving  hope  to  the  righteous 
in  the  agonies  of  death.  Those  old  intimate  friends,  the 
soul  and  body,  that  must  now  part  with  so  much  reluc- 
tance, shall  again  meet  and  be  united  in  inseparable 
bonds.  The  righteous  man  does  not  deliver  up  his  body 
as  the  eternal  prey  of  worms,  or  the  irredeemable  prisoner 
of  the  grave  ;  but  his  hope  looks  forward  to  the  glorious 
dreadful  morning  of  the  resurrection,  and  sees  the  bonds 
of  death  bursting ;  the  prison  of  the  grave  flying  open ; 
the  mouldering  dust  collected,  and  formed  into  a  human 
body  once  more — a  human  body,  ^  most  gloriously  im- 
proved. This  prospect  affords  a  very  agreeable  support 
in  death,  and  enables  the  righteous  to  say  with  Job, 
though  I  die,  "  I  know  that  my  Eedeemer  liveth,  and 
that  he  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth  ;  and 
though  after  my  skin  worms  destroy  this  body,  yet  in 
my  flesh  shall  I  see  God."  This  corruptible  shall  put  on 
incorruption,  and  this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality, 
and  death  shall  be  swallowed  up  in  victory.  0  death ! 
where  is  thy  sting  ?  O  grave  I  where  is  thy  victory  ? 
This  is  an  illustrious  victory  indeed — a  victory  over  the 
conqueror  of  conquerors,  and  of  all  the  sons  of  Adam. 
And  yet  thus  victorious  shall  the  frail  dying  believer  be 
made  over  that  terror  of  human  nature. 

Fourthly,  The  perfect  and  everlasting  happiness  of  heaven 
is  an  object  of  the  righteous  man's  hope  in  death.  He 
hopes  to  drop  all  his  sins  and  their  attendant  train  of 
sorrows  behind  him,  and  to  be  perfectly  holy,  and  con- 
sequently happy,  for  ever.  He  hopes  to  see  his  God  and 
Saviour,  and  to  spend  a  happy  eternity  in  society  with 
him  and  in  his  service.  He  hopes  to  join  the  company 
of  angels  and  of  his  fellow-saints  of  the  human  race. 
He  hopes  to  improve  in  knowledge,  in  holiness,  and  in 
capacities  for  action  and  enjoyment,  in  an  endless  grada- 
tion. He  hopes  to  "  see  the  face  of  God  in  righteousness; 
and  to  be  satisfied  when  he  awakes  with  his  image."  Oh, 
what  a  glorious  hope  is  this !  This  has  made  many  a  soul 
welcome  death  with  open  arms.  This  has  made  them 
"  desirous  to  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better."  Indeed, 
without  this,  immortality  would  be  an  object  of  terror, 
and  not  of  hope ;  the  prospect  would  be  insupportably 
dreadful.  For  who  can  bear  the  thought  of  an  immortal 
duration  spent  in  an  eternal  banishment  from  God  and  all 


348  THE   OBJECTS,    GROUNDS,    AND   EVIDENCES 

happiness,  and  in  the  sujfferance  of  the  most  exquisite 
pain!  But  a  happy  immortality,  what  can  charm  us 
more ! 

Having  thus  shown  you  some  of  the  principal  objects 
of  a  good  man's  hope  in  death,  I  now  proceed, 

Secondly^  To  show  you  what  are  the  grounds  and  evi- 
dences of  such  a  hope. 

It  is  evident  it  is  not  every  kind  of  hope  that  is  in- 
tended in  my  text ;  it  is  a  hope  peculiar  to  the  righteous  ; 
and  it  is  a  hope  that  shall  never  be  disappointed  or  put  to 
shame.  Job  speaks  of  the  hope  of  the  hypocrite ;  and  one 
greater  than  Job  tells  us,  that  many  will  carry  their  false 
hopes  with  them  to  the  tribunal  of  their  Judge.  When 
he  assures  them  he  never  knew  them,  they  hardly  think 
him  in  earnest :  "  Strange!  dost  thou  not  know  us?  Have 
we  not  eat  and  drunk  in  thy  presence,  and  hast  thou  not 
taught  in  our  streets  ?"  St.  Paul  also  tells  us,  that  while 
some  are  crying  peace  and  safety,  and  apprehending  no 
danger,  then  sudden  destruction  cometh  upon  them.  This 
is  likewise  evidently  confirmed  by  observation :  for  how 
often  do  we  find  in  fact,  that  many  not  only  hope  for  im- 
mortality, but  for  immortal  happiness,  who  give  no  evi- 
dence at  all  of  their  title  to  it,  but  many  of  the  contrary  ? 
Here,  then,  is  a  very  proper  occasion  for  self-examination. 
Since  there  are  so  many  false  hopes  among  mankind,  we 
should  solicitously  inquire  whether  ours  will  stand  the  test. 
To  assist  us  in  this  inquiry  let  us  consider  what  are  the  pe- 
culiar grounds  and  evidences  of  the  righteous  man's  hope. 

Now  it  will  be  universally  granted,  that  God  best  knows 
whom  he  will  admit  into  heaven,  and  whom  he  will  ex- 
clude— that  it  is  his  province  to  appoint  the  ground  of  our 
hope,  and  that  constitution  according  to  whicli  we  may 
be  saved — that  none  can  be  saved  but  those  who  have 
the  characters  which  he  has  declared  essentially  necessary 
to  salvation,  and  that  none  shall  perish  who  have  those 
characters.  And  hence  it  follows,  that  the  righteous 
man's  hope  is  entirely  regulated  by  the  divine  constitu- 
tion, and  the  declarations  of  that  holy  word  which  alone 
gives  us  certain  information  in  this  case.  This,  I  say,  is 
the  grand  test  of  a  true  hope :  it  expects  what  God  has 
promised;  and  it  e:jipects  it  in  the  way  and  manner 
established  by  him.  It  is  a  humble  submissive  hope :  it 
does  not  expect  happiness,  as  it  were,  in  spite  of  him  who 


OF  THE   HOPE   OF  THE   RIGHTEOUS.  849 

is  the  author  of  it ;  but  it  expects  happiness  just  in  the 
manner  which  he  has  appointed. 

Now  what  has  God  appointed  to  be  the  ground  or 
foundation  of  our  hope?  St.  Paul  will  tell  you,  "No 
other  foundation  can  any  man  lay  than  that  which  is 
already  laid,  which  is  Jesus  Christ.  God  himself  pro- 
claims, by  Isaiah,  "Behold,  I  lay  in  Zion.for  a  foundation 
a  stone,  a  tried  stone,  a  precious  corner-stone,  a  sure 
foundation."  Jesus  Christ,  then,  is  the  only  sure  ground  of 
hope,  appointed  by  God  himself.  Or,  in  other  words, 
the  free  mercy  of  God,  which  can  be  communicated  only 
through  Jesus  Christ,  or  for  his  sake,  is  the  only  sure 
ground  of  hope  for  a  sinner.  It  is  upon  this,  and  not 
upon  his  own  righteousness,  that  the  righteous  man  dares 
to  build  his  hope.  He  is  sensible  that  every  other  foun- 
dation is  but  a  quicksand.  He  cannot  venture  to  hope 
on  account  of  his  own  merit,  either  in  whole  or  in  part. 
It  is  in  the  mercy,  the  mere  mercy  of  God  through  Jesus 
Christ,  that  he  trusts.  He  is  gratefully  sensible,  indeed, 
that  God  has  wrought  many  good  things  in  him,  and 
enabled  him  to  perform  many  good  actions  ;  but  these  are 
not  the  ground  of  his  hope,  but  the  evidence  of  it ;  I 
mean,  he  does  not  make  these  any  part  of  his  justifying 
righteousness ;  but  only  evidences  that  he  has  an  interest 
in  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  which  alone  can  procure 
him  the  blessings  he  hopes  for.     Which  leads  me  to  add. 

That  the  evidence  of  this  hope  is,  the  righteous  man's 
finding,  upon  a  thorough  trial,  that  the  characters  which 
God  has  declared  essentially  necessary  to  salvation  do  be- 
long to  him.  Has  God  declared  that  the  regenerate,  that 
believers  and  penitents,  that  they  who  are  made  holy  in 
heart  and  life,  and  none  but  such,  shall  be  saved  ?  Then 
is  my  hope  true  and  sure  when  I  hope  for  salvation,  be- 
cause I  find  these  characters  belong  to  me.  I  know  the 
God  of  truth  will  keep  his  word  ;  and  therefore,  poor  and 
guilty  and  unworthy  as  I  am,  it  is  no  presumption  for  me 
to  hope  for  everlasting  happiness  from  him,  if  I  find  myself 
to  be  such  as  he  has  promised  everlasting  happiness  to. 

This,  brethren,  is  the  only  valid  evidence  of  a  good 
hope.  And  is  this  the  evidence  that  encourages  you  in 
this  important  affair  ?  Alas !  the  world  is  overrun  with 
delusive  hopes,  that  are  so  far  from  being  supported  by 
evidence  that  they  are  supported  in  direct  opposition  to 

30 


350  THE  OBJECTS,    GROUNDS,    AND  EVIDENCES 

it.  God  has  declared,  in  the  plainest  and  strongest  terms, 
that  no  drunkard,  nor  swearer,  nor  fornicator,  nor  any 
similar  characters,  shall  inherit  his  kingdom;  and  yet 
what  crowds  of  drunkards,  swearers,  fornicators,  and  the 
like,  will  maintain  their  hopes  of  heaven  in  spite  of  these 
declarations.  He  has  declared,  with  the  utmost  solemnity, 
that  "  except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven."  And  yet  what  multitudes  pre- 
sume to  hope  they  shall  enter  there,  though  they  still  con- 
tinue in  their  natural  state,  and  have  no  evidence  at  all  of 
their  being  born  again?  God  has  declared,  that  "except 
we  repent,  we  shall  all  perish,"  like  the  infidel  Jews;  and 
that  "  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned."  And  yet 
how  many  hope  to  be  saved,  though  they  have  never  felt 
the  kindly  relentings  of  ingenuous,  evangelical  repentance, 
nor  the  work  of  faith  with  power  wrought  upon  their 
hearts?  What  can  be  more  plain  than  that  declaration, 
"  without  holiness,  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord?"  And  yet 
multitudes  that  hate  holiness  in  their  hearts  hope  to  be 
saved  as  w^ll  as  your  precise  and  sanctified  creatures  as 
they  call  them.  In  short,  the  hopes  of  many  are  so  far 
from  being  supported  by  the  authority  of  the  Scriptures, 
that  they  are  supported  only  by  the  supposition  of  their 
being  false.  If  the  Scriptures  be  true,  then  they  and 
their  hopes  must  perish  together ;  but  if  the  Scriptures  be 
false,  then  they  have  some  chance  to  be  saved,  though  it 
is  but  a  very  dull  chance  after  all ;  for  if  they  have  to  do 
with  a  lying,  deceitful  Deity,  they  have  no  ground  at  all 
of  any  confidence  in  him ;  they  must  be  anxiously  uncer- 
tain what  they  should  hope,  or  what  they  should  fear, 
from  his  hands.  Hence  you  see  that  we  should  vindicate 
the  truth  of  God  in  these  declarations,  even  by  way  of 
self-defence ;  for  if  the  divine  veracity  fail  in  one  instance, 
it  becomes  doubtful' in  every  instance,  and  we  have  noth- 
ing left  to  depend  upon.  If  they  may  be  saved,  whom 
God  has  declared  shall  perish,  then,  by  a  parity  of  reason, 
they  may  perish  whom  he  has  characterized  as  the  heirs 
of  salvation  ;  and  consequently  there  is  no  certainty  that 
any  will  be  saved  at  all.  Thus  sinners,  while  establish- 
ing their  own  false  hopes,  remove  all  ground  of  hope,  and 
leave  us  in  the  most  dreadful  suspense. 

Brethren !   let  us  regulate  our  hopes  according  to  his 
declaration,  who  has  the  objects  of  our  hope  entirely  at  his 


OF  THE  HOPE   OF   THE  RIGHTEOUS.  851 

disposal.  When  we  pretend  to  improve  upon  divine 
constitutions,  or,  as  we  think,  turn  them  in  our  favor,  we 
do  in  reality  but  ruin  them,  and  turn  them  against  our- 
selves. Make  that,  and  that  only,  the  ground  and  evidence 
of  your  hope  which  God  has  made  such.  His  constitution 
will  stand,  and  you  shall  be  judged  according  to  it,  whether 
you  will  or  not.  Do  not  make  that  the  ground  or  evidence 
of  your  hope  which  he  has  not  so  made,  or  which  he  has. 
pronounced  the  characteristic  of  the  heirs  of  hell.  You 
hope,  perhaps,  to  be  saved,  though  you  live  in  the  willful 
neglect  of  some  known  duty,  or  in  the  willful  practice  of 
some  known  sin.  But  has  God  given  you  any  reason  for 
such  a  hope  ?  You  know  he  has  not,  but  the  contrary. 
You  hope  he  will  show  mercy  to  you,  because  his  nature 
is  mercy  and  love,  and  he  is  the  compassionate  Father  of 
his  creatures,  or  because  Christ  has  died  for  sinners.  But 
has  he  given  you  any  assurances  that  because  he  is  merci- 
ful, because  he  is  so  compassionate  a  Father,  because  Christ 
has  died  for  sinners,  therefore  he  will  save  you  in  your 
present  condition  ?  You  hope  to  be  saved,  because  you 
are  as  good  as  the  generality,  or  perhaps  better  than  many 
around  you.  But  has  God  made  this  a  sufficient  ground  of 
hope  ?  Has  he  told  you  that  to  be  fashionably  religious  is  to 
be  sufficiently  religious,  or  that  the  way  of  the  multitude 
leads  to  life  ?  This  may  be  your  hope ;  but  is  it  the 
authentic  declaration  of  eternal  Truth  ?  You  know  it  is 
not,  but  quite  the  contrary.  I  might  add  sundry  other  in- 
stances of  unscriptural  hope ;  but  these  may  suffice  as  a 
specimen.  And  I  shall  lay  down  this  general  rule,  which 
will  enable  yourselves  to  make  further  discoveries,  namely, 
Those  hopes  are  all  false  which  are  opposite  to  the  decla- 
rations of  God  in  his  word.  Certainly  this  needs  no  proof 
to  such  as  believe  the  divine  authority  of  the  Scriptures. 

Thirdly,  To  consider  the  various  degrees  and  limitations 
of  a  good  hope  in  death. 

A  good  hope  is  always  supported  by  evidence ;  and,  ac- 
cording to  the  degree  of  evidence,  is  the  degree  of  hope. 
When  the  evidence  is  clear  and  undoubted,  then  it  rises  to 
a  joyful  assurance ;  but  when  the  evidence  is  dark  and 
doubtful,  then  it  wavers  and  is  weakened  by  dismal  fears 
and  jealousies.  Now,  I  have  told  you  already,  that  the 
evidence  of  a  good  hope  is  a  person's  discovering,  by  im- 
partial examination,  that  those  characters  which  God  has 


352  THE   OBJECTS,    GROUNDS,   AND  EVIDENCES 

pronounced  the  inseparable  characters  of  those  that  shall 
be  saved,  do  belong  to  him ;  or  that  he  has  those  graces 
and  virtues  which  are,  at  once,  his  preparation  for  heaven 
and  the  evidence  of  his  title  to  it.  Now  different  believers, 
and  even  the  same  persons  at  different  times,  have  very 
different  degrees  of  this  evidence.  And  the  reason  of  this 
difference  is,  that  sundry  causes  are  necessary  to  make  the 
evidence  clear  and  satisfactory ;  and  when  any  of  these  are 
wanting,  or  do  not  concur  in  a  proper  degree,  then  the  evi- 
dence is  dark  and  doubtful.  In  order  to  be  fully  satisfied 
of  the  truth  and  reality  of  our  graces,  it  is  necessary  we 
should  arrive  at  some  eminence  in  them  ;  otherwise,  like  a 
jewel  in  a  heap  of  rubbish,  they  may  be  so  blended  with 
corruption  that  it  may  be  impossible  to  discern  them  with 
certainty.  Hence  the  weak  Christian,  unless  he  have  un- 
usual supplies  of  divine  grace,  enters  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death  with  fear  and  trembling ;  whereas  he  who 
has  made  great  attainments  in  holiness  enters  it  with 
courage,  or  perhaps  with  transports  of  joy.  It  is  also 
necessary  to  a  full  assurance  of  hope,  that  the  Spirit  of  God 
bears  witness  with  our  spirit  that  we  are  the  sons  of  God, 
or  that  he  excites  our  graces  to  such  a  lively  exercise  as  to 
render  them  visible  by  their  effects,  and  distinguishable 
from  all  other  principles.  And,  therefore,  if  a  sovereign 
God  see  fit  to  withhold  his  influences  from  the  dying  saint, 
his  graces  will  languish,  his  past  experiences  will  appear 
confused  and  doubtful,  and  consequently  his  mind  will  be 
tossed  with  anxious  fears  and  jealousies.  But  if 'he  be  pleased 
to  pour  out  his  Spirit  upon  him,  it  will  be  like  a  ray  of 
heavenly  light  to  point  out  his  way  through  the  dark 
shades  of  death,  and  open  to  him  the  transporting  prospects 
of  eternal  day  that  lie  just  before  him. 

Another  thing  that  occasions  a  difference  in  this  case  is, 
that  an  assured  hope  is  the  result  of  frequent  self-examina- 
tion ;  and,  therefore,  the  Christian  that  has  been  diligent  in 
this  duty,  and  all  his  life  been  laboring  to  make  all  sure 
against  his  last  hour,  generally  enjoys  the  happy  fruits 
of  his  past  diligence,  and  enters  the  harbor  of  rest  with 
sails  full  of  the  fair  gales  of  hope ;  but  he  that  has  been 
negligent  in  this  duty,  is  tossed  with  billows  and  tempests 
of  doubts  and  fears,  and  is  afraid  of  being  shipwrecked 
in  sight  of  the  port. 

It  is  also  necessary  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  comfortable 


OF  THE   HOPE   OF  THE   RIGHTEOUS.  853 

hope  in  death,  that  the  mind  be  in  some  measure  calm  and 
rational,  not  clouded  with  the  glooms  of  melancholy  or 
thrown  into  a  delirium  or  insensibility  by  the  violence  of 
the  disorder.  And  according  as  this  is  or  is  not  the  case, 
a  good  man  may  enjoy  or  not  enjoy  the  comforts  of  hope. 

These  remarks  will  help  us  to  discover  with^what  limit- 
ations we  are  to  understand  my  text,  "  The  righteous  hath 
hope  in  his  death."  It  does  not  mean  that  every  righteous 
man  has  the  same  degree  of  hope,  or  that  no  righteous 
man  is  distressed  with  fears  and  doubts  in  his  last  moments. 
But  it  means,  in  the 

First  place.  That  every  righteous  man  has  substantial 
reason  to  hope,  whether  he  clearly  see  it  or  not.  His 
eternal  all  is  really  safe ;  and  as  all  the  false  hopes  of  the 
wicked  cannot  save  him,  so  all  his  fears  cannot  destroy 
him,  though  they  may  afibrd  him  some  transient  pangs  of 
horror.  He  is  in  the  possession  of  a  faithful  God,  who  will 
take  care  of  him,  and  nothing  shall  pluck  him  out  of  his 
hands.  He  sees  fit  to  leave  some  of  his  people  in  their  last 
moments  to  conflict  at  once  with  death  and  with  their  more 
dreadful  fears  ;  but  even  this  will  issue  in  their  real  advan- 
tage. And  what  an  agreeable  surprise  will  it  be  to  such 
trembling  souls  to  find  death  has  unexpectedly  transported 
them  to  heaven ! 

Secondly,  When  it  is  said,  "  the  righteous  hath  hope  in 
his  death,"  it  means,  that  good  men,  in  common,  do,  in 
fact,  enjoy  a  comfortable  hope.  In  the  greatest  agonies  of 
fear  and  suspicion,  the  trembling  soul  has  still  some  glim- 
mering hope  to  support  it ;  and  its  gracious  Saviour  never 
abandons  it  entirely.  And  it  is  the  more  common  case  of 
the  saints  to  enjoy  more  comfort  and  confidence  in  death 
than  they  were  wont  to  do  in  life.  Many  that  in  life  were 
wont  to  shudder  at  every  danger,  and  fly  at  the  sound  of  a 
shaking  leaf,  have  been  emboldened  at  death  to  meet  the 
king  of  terrors,  and  to  welcome  his  fiercest  assault.  The 
soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ  have  generally  left  this  mortal 
state  in  triumph,  though  this  is  not  a  universal  rule. 
And  who  would  not  wish  and  pray  for  such  an  exit  ?  that 
he  may  do  honor  to  his  God  and  Saviour  and  to  his 
religion  with  his  last  breath ;  that  he  may  discover  to  the 
world  that  religion  can  bear  him  up,  when  all  other  sup- 
ports prove  a  broken  reed ;  and  that  liis  last  words  may 
sow  the  seeds  of  piety  in  the  hearts  of  those  that  surround 

so* 


354  THE   OBJECTS,    GROUNDS,    AND   EVIDENCES 

his  dying  bed ;  tliis  every  good  man  should  pray  and  wish 
for,  though  it  must  be  left  in  the  hands  of  a  sovereign  God 
to  do  as  he  pleases. 

Thirdly,  When  it  is  said,  "  the  righteous  hath  hope  in 
his  death,"  it  may  mean,  that  the  hope  which  he  hath  in 
death  shalLbe  accomplished.  .  It  is  not  a  flattering,  delusive 
dream,  but  a  glorious  reality,  and,  therefore,  deserves  the 
name.  His  ''  hope  shall  not  make  him  ashamed,"  but 
shall  be  fulfilled  and  even  exceeded. 

This  is  the  glorious  peculiarity  of  the  good  man's  hope. 
Many  carry  their  hope  with  them  to  death,  and  will  not 
give  it  up  till  they  give  up  the  ghost.  But  as  it  is  un- 
grounded, it  will  end  in  disappointment  and  confusion. 
And  oh !  into  what  a  terrible  consternation  will  it  strike 
them,  to  find  themselves  surrounded  with  flames  when 
they  expected  to  land  on  the  blissful  coasts  of  paradise ! 
To  find  their  judge  and  their  conscience  accusing  and  con- 
demning, instead  of  acquitting  them  I — to  find  their  souls 
plunged  into  hell  under  a  strong  guard  of  devils,  instead 
of  being  conducted  to  heaven  by  a  glorious  convoy  of 
angels ! — to  feel  the  pangs  and  horrors  of  everlasting  de- 
spair succeed  in  an  instant  to  the  flattering  prospect  of 
delusive  hope!  Oh!  what  a  shocking  disappointment, 
what  a  terrible  change  is  this ! 

Therefore  now,  my  brethren,  make  sure  work.  Do  not 
venture  your  souls  upon  the  broken  reed  of  false  hope. 
But  "  give  all  diligence  to  make  your  calling  and  election 
sure."  Now  you  may  make  a  profitable  discovery  of  your 
mistake ;  if  your  hope  is  ungrounded,  you  have  now  time 
and  means  to  obtain  a  good  hope  through  grace.  But  then 
it  will  be  too  late ;  your  only  chance,  if  I  may  so  speak, 
will  be  lost,  and  you  must  for  ever  stand  by  the  conse- 
quences. Why  will  you  not  labor  to  secure  so  important 
an  interest,  beyond  all  rational  possibility  of  a  disappoint- 
ment ?  Have  you  any  thing  else  to  do  which  is  of  greater, 
of  equal,  or  comparable  importance?  Do  you  think  you 
will  approve  of  this  neglect  upon  a  dying  bed,  or  in  the 
eternal  world? 

Let  this  subject  strengthen  the  hope  of  such  of  you,  whose 
hope  will  stand  the  Scripture  test.  You  must  die,  'tis  true; 
your  bodies  must  be  the  food  of  worms ;  but  be  of  good 
courage ;  your  almighty  and  immortal  Saviour  will  sup- 
port you  in  the  hour  of  your  extremity,  and  confer  im- 


OF  THE   HOPE   OF   THE   EIGHTEOUS.  855 

mortality  upon  you.  He  will  also  quicken  your  mortal 
bodies,  and  reunite  them  to  your  souls,  and  make  your 
whole  persons  as  happy  as  your  natures  will  admit. 

Blessed  be  God,  you  are  safe  from  all  the  fatal  conse- 
quences of  the  original  apostasy  and  your  own  personal 
sin.  Death,  the  last  enemy,  which  seems  to  survive  all 
the  rest,  shall  not  triumph  over  you  ;  but  even  death  itself 
shall  die,  and  be  no  more.  Oh !  happy  people !  who  is 
like  unto  you,  a  people  saved  by  the  Lord. 

Let  me  now  conclnde  with  a  melancholy  contrast ;  I 
mean  the  wretched  condition  of  the  wicked  in  a  dying 
hour.  Some  of  them,  indeed,  have  a  hope,  a  strong  hope, 
which  the  clearest  evidence  cannot  wrest  from  them.  This 
may  afford  them  a  little  delusive  support  in  death ;  but, 
upon  the  whole,  it  is  their  plague;  it  keeps  them  from 
spending  their  last  moments  in  seeking  after  a  well- 
grounded  hope ;  and  as  soon  as  their  souls  are  separated 
from  their  bodies,  it  exposes  them  to  the  additional  con- 
fusion of  a  dreadful  disappointment.  Others  of  them  lived 
like  beasts,  and  like  beasts  they  die ;  that  is,  as  thought- 
less, as  stupid,  about  their  eternal  state,  as  the  brutes  that 
perish.  Oh !  what  a  shocking  sight  is  the  death-bed  of 
such  a  stupid  sinner !  Others,  who,  with  a  great  deal  of 
pains,  make  a  shift  to  keep  their  consciences  easy  in  the 
ga}^  hours  of  health  and  prosperity,  when  death  and  eternity 
stare  them  in  the  face,  find  this  sleeping  lion  rousing,  roar- 
ing, and  tearing  them  to  pieces.  They  had  a  secret  con- 
sciousness before  that  they  had  no  ground  for  a  comfort- 
able hope ;  but  they  suppressed  the  conviction  and  would 
not  regard  it.  But  now  it  revives,  and  they  tremble  with 
a  fearful  expectation  of  wrath  and  fiery  indignation.  This 
is  especially  the  usual  doom  of  such  as  lived  under  a  faith- 
ful ministry,  and  have  had  a  clear  light  of  the  gospel,  and 
just  notions  of  divine  things  forced  upon  their  unwilling 
minds.  It  is  not  so  easy  for  them,  as  for  others,  to  flatter 
themselves  with  false  hopes,  in  the  honest,  impartial  hour 
of  death.  Their  knowledge  is  a  magazine  of  arms  for 
their  consciences  to  use  to  torment  them.  Oh !  in  what 
horrors  do  some  of  them  die !  and  how  much  of  hell  do 
they  feel  upon  earth ! 

Nay,  this  is  sometimes  the  doom  of  some  infidel  profli- 
gates, who  flattered  themselves  they  could  contemn  the 
bugbear  of  a  future  state,  even  in  death.     They  thought 


856  THE   OBJECTS,    GROUNDS,    AND   EVIDENCES 

tliey  had  conquered  truth  and  conscience,  but  they  find 
themselves  mistaken — they  find  these  are  insuppressible, 
victorious,  immortal ;  and  that,  though  with  mountains 
overwhelmed,  they  will  one  day  burst  out  like  the  smoth- 
ered fires  of  ^tna,  visibly  bright  and  tormenting.  Of 
this  the  celebrated  Dr.  Young,  whose  inimitable  pen  em- 
bellishes whatever  it  touches,  gives  us  a  most  melancholy 
instance,  related  in  the  true  spirit  of  tragedy — an  instance 
of  a  youth  of  noble  birth,  fine  accomplishments,  and  large 
estate,  who  imbibed  the  infidel  principles  of  deism,  so 
fashionable  in  high  life,  and  debauched  himself  with  sen- 
sual indulgences ;  who,  by  his  unkind  treatment  broke  the 
heart  of  an  amiable  wife,  and  by  his  prodigality  squan- 
dered away  his  estate,  and  thus  disinherited  his  only  son. 
Hear  the  tragical  story  from  the  author's  own  words. 

"  The  death-bed  of  a  profligate  is  next  in  horror  to  that 
abyss  to  which  it  leads.  It  has  the  most  of  hell  that  is 
visible  on  earth,  and  he  that  has  seen  it  has  more  than 
faith,  he  has  the  evidence  of  sense  to  confirm  him  in  his 
creed.  I  see  it  now !  for  who  can  forget  it  ?  Are  there 
in  it  no  flames  and  furies?  You  know  not,  then,  what  a 
scared  imagination  can  figure — v/hat  a  guilty  heart  can 
feel.  How  dismal  is  it!  The  two  great  enemies  of  soul 
and  body,  sickness  and  sin,  sink  and  confound  his  friends, 
silence  and  darken  the  shocking  scene.  Sickness  excludes 
the  light  of  heaven,  and  sin  excludes  the  blessed  hope. 
Oh !  double  darkness !  more  than  Egyptian !  acutely  to  be 
felt !  See !  how  he  lies,  a  sad,  deserted  outcast,  on  a  nar- 
row isthmus,  between  time  and  eternity,  for  he  is  scarcely 
alive.  Lashed  and  overwhelmed  on  one  side,  by  the  sense 
of  sin,  on  the  other  by  the  dread  of  punishment !  Beyond 
the  reach  of  human  help,  and  in  despair  of  olivine ! 

"His  dissipated  fortune,  impoverished  babe,  and  mur- 
dered wife  lie  heavy  on  him.  The  ghost  of  his  murdered 
time,  (for  now  no  more  is  left,)  all  stained  with  folly  and 
gashed  with  vice,  haunts  his  distracted  thought.  Consci- 
ence, which  long  had  slept,  awakes,  like  a  giant  refreshed 
with  wine,  lays  waste  all  his  former  thoughts  and  desires, 
and  like  a  long  deposed,  now  victorious  prince,  takes  the 
severest  revenges  upon  his  bleeding  heart.  Its  late  soft 
whispers-  are  thunder  in  his  ears  ;  and  all  means  of  grace 
rejected,  exploded,  ridiculed,  are  now  the  bolt  that  strikes 
him  dead — dead  even  to  the  thoughts  of  death.     In  deeper 


OF  THE   HOPE   OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS.  357 

distress,  despair  of  life  is  forgot.  He  lies  a  wretched  wreck 
of  man  on  the  shore  of  eternity  !  and  the  next  breath  he 
draws  blows  him  off  into  ruin. 

"  The  sad  evening  before  the  death  of  that  noble  youth, 
I  was  there.  No  one  was  with  him  but  his  physician  and 
an  intimate  whom  he  loved,  and  whom  he  had  ruined  by 
his  infidel  principles  and  debauched  practices.  At  my 
coming  in  he  said, 

"  '  You  and  the  physician  are  come  too  late.  I  have 
neither  life  nor  hope.  You  would  aim  at  miracles ;  you 
would  raise  the  dead.' 

"  Heaven,  I  said,  was  merciful, 

"  '  Or  I  should  not  have  been  so  deeply  guilty.  What 
has  it  not  done  to  bless  and  save  me  !  I  have  been  too 
strong  for  Omnipotence  !     I  have  plucked  down  ruin.' 

"  I  said,  the  blessed  Eedeemer 

"  '  Hold !  hold  !  you  wound  me  !  That  is  the  rock  on 
which  I  split;  I  denied  his  name  and  his  religion.' 

"Refusing  to  hear  anything  from  me,  or  take  any  thing 
from  the  physician,  he  lay  silent,  as  far  as  sudden  starts  of 
pain  would  permit,  till  the  clock  struck.  Then,  with  vehe- 
mence, 

"  '  Oh,  Time  !  Time !  It  is  fit  thou  shouldst  thus  strike 
thy  murderer  to  the  heart.  How  art  thou  fled  for  ever  ? 
A  month ! — oh,  for  a  single  week  !^  I  ask  not  for  years  ; 
though  an  age  were  too  little  for  the  much  I  have  to 
do!' 

"  On  my  saying  we  could  not  do  too  much — that  heaven 
was  a  blessed  place, 

"  '  So  much  the  worse.  It  is  lost !  it  is  lost !  Heaven 
is  to  me  the  severest  part  of  hell,  as  the  loss  of  it  is  my 
greatest  pain.' 

"  Soon  after  I  proposed  prayer. 

"  '  Pray  you  that  can.  I  never  prayed ;  I  cannot  pray ; 
nor  need  I.  Is  not  heaven  on  my  side  already?  It  closes 
with  my  conscience.  It  but  executes  the  sentence  I  pass 
upon  myself.     Its  severest  strokes  but  second  my  own.' 

"  His  friend  being  much  touched,  even  to  tears,  at  this, 
• — (who  could  forbear?  I  could  not,) — with  a  most  affec- 
tionate look,  he  said, 

"  '  Keep  those  tears  for  thyself  I  have  undone  thee. — 
Dost  thou  weep  for  me?  That  is  cruel.  What  can  pain 
me  more  ?' 


358  THE   OBJECTS,    GROUNDS,    ETC. 

"Here  his  friend,  too  much  affected,  would  have  left 
him. 

"  '  Ko  ;  stay.  Thou  still  may  est  hope ; — therefore  hear 
me.  How  madly  have  I  talked  1  How  madly  hast  thou 
listened  and  believed  I  But  look  upon  my  present  state 
as  a  full  answer  to  thee  and  to  myself  This  body  is  all 
weakness  and  pain ;  but  my  soul,  as  if  strung  up  by  tor- 
ment to  greater  strength  and  spirit,  is  full  powerful  to  rea- 
son— full  mighty  to  suffer.  And  that  which  thus  triumphs 
within  the  jaws  of  mortality,  is,  doubtlessj  immortal.  And 
as  for  a  Deity,  nothing  less  than  an  Almighty  could  inflict 
what  I  feel.' 

"I  was  about  to  congratulate  this  passive,  involuntary 
confessor,  on  asserting  the  two  prime  articles  of  his  creed, 
the  existence  of  God  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  ex- 
torted by  the  rack  of  nature,  when  he  thus,  very  passion- 
ately, 

"  '  No,  no !  Let  me  speak  on.  I  have  not  long  to  speak. 
— My  much-injured  friend  !  My  soul,  as  my  body,  lies  in 
ruins,  in  scattered  fragments  of  broken  thought.  Remorse 
for  the  past  throws  my  thoughts  on  the  future.  Worse 
dread  of  the  future  strikes  it  back  on  the  past.  I  turn  and 
turn  and  find  no  ray.  Didst  thou  feel  half  the  mountain 
that  is  on  me,  thou  wouldst  struggle  with  the  martyr  for 
the  stake  and  bless  He^aven  for  the  flames  :  that  is  not  an 
everlasting  flame ;  that  is  not  an  unquenchable  fire.' 

"How  were  we  struck?  Yet  soon  after  still  more. 
With  an  eye  of  distraction,  with  a  face  of  despair,  he  cried 
out, 

"  '  My  principles  have  poisoned  my  friend  ;  my  extrava- 
gance has  beggared  my  boy ;  my  unkindness  has  murdered 
my  wife!  And  is  there  another  hell  ?  Oh!  thou  blasphemed 
yet  most  indulgent  Lord  God !  hell  is  a  refuge,  if  it  hides 
me  from  thy  frown.' 

"  Soon  after  his  understanding  failed.  His  terrified  im- 
agination littered  horrors  not  to  be  repeated  or  ever  for- 
gotten ;  and  ere  the  sun  (which,  I  hope,  has  seen  but  few 
like  him)  arose,  the  gay,  young,  noble,  ingenious,  accom- 
plished, and  most  wretched  Altamont  expired." 

Is  not  this  tragical  instance  a  loud  warning  to  us  all,  and 
especially  to  such  of  us  as  may  be  walking  in  the  steps  of 
tins  unhappy  youth  ?  "  Men  may  live  fools,  but  fools  they 
cannot  die."     Death  will  make  them  wise,  and  show  them 


THE   GUILT,   ETC.  859 


their  true  interest,  when  it  is  too  late  to  secure  it.  Ignorance 
and  thoughtlessness,  or  the  principles  of  infidelity,  may 
make  men  live  like  beasts ;  but  these  will  not  enable  them 
to  die  like  beasts.  May  we  live  as  candidates  for  immor- 
tality !  May  we  now  seek  a  well-established  hope  that 
will  stand  the  severest  trials  !  and  may  we  labor  to  secure 
the  protection  of  the  Lord  of  life  and  death,  who  can  be 
our  sure  support  in  the  wreck  of  dissolving  nature !  May 
we  live  the  life  that  we  may  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  find  that  dark  valley  a  short  passage  into  the  world  of 
bliss  and  glory !     Amen. 


■» » » 


XXXIV. 

THE  GUILT  MD  DOOM  OF  IMPENITENT  HEARERS. 

*'  By  hearing  ye  shall  hear,  and  shall  not  understand,  and  seeing  ye  shall 
see,  and  shall  not  perceive," — Matt  xiii.  14. 

This  is  a  tremendous  threatening  of  long  standing,  first 
denounced  by  Jehovah  himself  in  the  days  of  Isaiah,  and 
frequently  cited  by  Christ  and  his  apostles  in  the  ISTew 
Testament,  as  being  still  in  force  and  capable  of  application 
to  various  parts  of  the  world.  It  is  a  threatening  from  Grod, 
not  that  he  would  recall  the  commission  of  his  ministers  or 
remove  them,  but  he  would  give  them  a  commission  in 
wrath,  and  continue  their  ministry  as  a  judgment  upon 
their  hearers.  It  is  a  threatening,  not  of  the  loss  of  the 
means  of  salvation,  but  of  their  being  continued  as  the 
occasions  of  more  aggravated  guilt  and  punishment ;  a 
threatening  to  those  who  have  abused  the  means  of  grace ; 
not  that  they  shall  attend  upon  them  no  more,  but  that  they 
shall  attend  upon  them,  but  receive  no  advantage  from 
them;  a  threatening  that  they  shall  hear,  that  is,  that  their 
life  and  rational  powers,  the  ministry  of  the  word  of  God, 
and  all  things  necessary  for  hearing,  shall  be  continued  to 
them ;  but  by  all  their  hearing  they  shall  not  understand 
any  thing  to  a  saving  purpose.  Their  knowledge  may  be 
increased,  and  their  heads  filled  with  bright  notions  and 
speculations ;  but  all  their  improvements  will  be  of  no  solid 


860  THE   GUILT  AND  DOOM   OF 

or  lasting  advantage  to  them;  so  that  tlieir  hearing  is 
equivalent  to  not  hearing  and  their  understanding  to  entire 
ignorance.  "  Seeing  ye  shall  see,  and  not  perceive."  You 
shall  have  your  eyes  open,  or  the  usual  exercise  of  your 
rational  powers,  and  the  sacred  light  of  instruction  shall 
shine  around  you  ;  but  even  in  the  midst  of  light  and  with 
your  eyes  open,  you  shall  perceive  nothing  to  purpose ;  the 
good  you  see  you  will  not  choose,  and  the  evil  and  danger 
you  see  you  will  not  shun,  but  run  into  it  willingly  and 
obstinately. 

The  connection  in  which  Christ  introduces  these  words 
is  this.  As  he  had  clothed  his  discourse  in  the  Eastern 
dress  of  parables  or  allegories,  his  disciples,  apprehending 
that  this  was  not  the  plainest  method  of  instruction,  and 
that  the  multitude  did  not  understand  him,  put  this  ques- 
tion to  him,  "Why  speakest  thou  to  them  in  parables?" 
He  answered  and  said  unto  them,  "  Because  unto  you  it  is 
given  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
but  unto  them  it  is  not  given."  This  informs  us  there  is  a 
dreadful  distinction  made,  even  in  this  world,  between  the 
hearers  of  the  gospel,  though  they  mingle  in  the  same 
assembly,  hear  the  same  preacher,  and  seem  to  stand  upon 
the  same  footing.  Thus  the  disciples  of  Christ  and  the 
unbelieving  crowd  were  upon  a  par ;  but,  says  Christ,  to 
you  it  is  given  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  or  the  glorious  doctrines  of  the  gospel ;  and  there- 
fore you  will  easily  perceive  them  through  the  veil  of  par- 
ables, which  will  be  an  agreeable  medium  of  instruction  to 
you.  But  to  the  unbelieving  crowd  it  is  not  given  to  know 
these  mysteries ;  though  they  attend  upon  my  ministry,  it 
is  not  intended  that  they  should  be  made  wiser  or  better  by 
it.  Alas !  my  brethren,  what  if  such  a  distinction  should 
be  made  between  us  who  meet  together  for  the  worship  of 
God  from  week  to  week  in  this  place. 

The  reason  of  this  distinction  will  show  the  justice  of  it, 
and  that  is  assigned  in  the  next  verse :  "  For  whosoever 
hath,  to  him  shall  be  given,  and  he  shall  have  more  abun- 
dance ;  but  whosoever  hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken 
away  even  that  he  hath  ;"  the  meaning  is,  whosoever  im- 
proves the  privileges  he  hath,  shall  have  those  privileges 
continued  to  him  with  a  blessed  addition ;  whosoever 
makes  a  good  use  of  the  means  of  grace,  he  shall  have 
grace  given  him  to  make  a  still  better  use  of  thorn ;  who- 


IMPENITENT   HEARERS.  361 

soever  has  opened  his  mind  to  receive  the  light  from  past 
instructions,  shall  have  further  light  and  further  instruc- 
tions; to  him  it  is  given  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven ;  and  they  shall  be  conveyed  to  him  in 
such  forms  of  instruction  as  he  shall  be  able  to  understand. 
"  But  whosoever  hath  not ;"  whosoever  makes  no  more 
improvement  of  his  privileges  than  if  he  had  none  given 
him  to  improve,  from  him  shall  be  taken  away  those  neg- 
lected privileges.  He  that  has  obstinately  shut  his  eyes 
against  the  light  of  instruction  in  times  past,  shall  be  pun- 
ished with  the  loss  of  that  light  in  future ;  though  the 
light  still  continue  to  shine  round  him,  yet  he  shall  be  left 
in  his  own  chosen  darkness,  and  divine  grace  shall  never 
more  open  his  mind.  He  is  given  up  as  unteachable, 
though  he  may  still  sit  in  Christ's  school.  It  is  no  longer 
the  design  of  the  gospel  to  show  him  the  way  to  eternal 
life,  though  he  may  still  enjoy  the  ministry  of  it,  and  Grod 
in  his  providence  may  order  things  so  as  to  occasion,  though 
not  properly  to  cause,  his  continuance  in  ignorance  and  in- 
fidelity. 

Here,  by  the  by,  I  would  make  a  remark  to  vindicate 
this  dreadful  instance  of  the  execution  of  divine  justice, " 
which  is  more  liable  to  the  cavils  of  human  pride  and 
ignorance  than  perhaps  any  other.  The  remark  is,  that 
God  may  justly  inflict  "private  as  well  as  positive  punish- 
ment upon  obstinate  sinners ;  or,  in  plainer  terms,  he  may 
with  undoubted  justice  punish  them  by  taking  away  the 
blessings  they  have  abused,  or  rendering  those  blessings 
useless  to  them,  as  well  as  by  inflicting  positive  misery  up- 
on them.  This  is  a  confessed  rule  of  justice,  and  it  holds 
good  as  to  spirituals  as  well  as  temporals.  May  not  God 
as'  justly  take  away  his  common  grace,  and  deny  future 
assistance  to  an  obstinate  sinner  who  has  abused  it,  as  de- 
prive him  of  health  or  life  ?  Why  may  he  not  as  justly 
leave  him  destitute  of  the  sanctified  use  of  the  means  of 
grace  he  has  neglected  and  unimproved  in  this  world,  as 
of  the  happiness  of  heaven  in  the  world  to  come  ?  This  is 
certainly  a  righteous  punishment,  and  there  is  also  a  pro- 
priety and  congruity  in  it ;  it  is  proper  and  congruous  that 
the  lovers  of  darkness  should  not  have  the  light  obtruded 
upon  them ;  that  the  despisers  of  instruction  should  re- 
ceive no  benefit  from  it ;  that  those  who  improve  not  what 
they  have  should  have  no  more,  but  should  lose  even  what 

HI 


362  THE   GUILT   AND   DOOM   OF 

they  have.  Thus  their  own  choice  is  made  their  curse, 
and  their  sin  their  punishment.     But  to  return. 

"Therefore,"  says  Jesus,  "I  speak  unto  them  in  para- 
bles ;"  therefwe,  that  is,  acting  upon  the  maxim  I  have  just 
laid  down,  that  those  who  abuse  the  light  they  have  shall 
have  no  more,  I  speak  to  them  on  purpose  in  this  mystical 
form,  that  they  may  still  remain  in  darkness,  while  I  am 
communicating  instruction  to  my  teachable  disciples; 
"because  they  seeing,  see  not,  and  hearing,  they  hear  not, 
neither  do  they  understand ;"  because,  though  they  have 
the  exercise  of  their  senses  and  intellectual  powers,  and 
have  enjoyed  my  instructions  so  frequently,  they  still  ob- 
stinately persist  in  ignorance  and  infidelity,  and  in  that  let 
them  continue ;  it  is  no  longer  the  design  of  my  ministry 
to  teach  or  convert  them.  "And  in  them,"  says  he,  "is 
fulfilled  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah,  which  saith.  By  hearing 
ye  shall  hear,  and  shall  not  understand;  and  seeing  ye 
shall  see,  and  shall  not  perceive."  And  then  follow  the 
reasons  of  this  tremendous  judgment:  "For  this  people's 
heart  is  waxed  gross  and  insensible,  and  their  ears  are  dull 
of  hearing,  and  their  eyes  they  have  closed ;  lest  at  any 
time  they  should  see  with  their  e3^es,  and  hear  with  their 
ears,  and  should  understand  with  their  hearts,  and  should 
be  converted,  and  I  should  heal  them;"  they  seem  afraid 
of  their  own  conversion,  and  therefore  do  all  they  can  to 
prevent  the  efficacy  of  the  means  of  grace  upon  them. 
Such  must  be  given  up  as  desperate ;  and  though  they  may 
still  live  among  the  means  of  grace,  it  is  no  longer  the  de- 
sign of  them  to  be  of  any  service  to  them. 

You  see,  as  I  observed  at  first,  this  is  a  denunciation  of 
long  standing — about  two  thousand  five  hundred  years 
old.  It  was  accomplished  in  Isaiah's  time,  when  God  look- 
ed out  for  a  messenger  to  send  to  the  Jews,  not  to  convert 
them,  but  to  leave  them  inexcusable  in  their  impenitence, 
and  so  aggravate  their  guilt  and  punishment.  "  Whom 
shall  I  send  ?"  says  Jehovah,  "  and  who  shall  go  for  us  ?" 
As  if  he  had  said,  I  do  not  intend  to  deprive  this  obstinate 
people  of  the  ministry  of  my  servants,  but  am  about  to 
send  them  another;  and  where  shall  I  find  one  that  will 
accept  so  thankless  and  fruitless  an  office  ?  Isaiah  offers 
his  services  as  a  volunteer.  "Here  am  I,"  says  he,  "  send 
me."  And  then  his  commission  is  made  out  in  these  ter- 
rible terms — expressive  rather  of  tlic  office  of  an  cxecu- 


IMPENITENT  HEARERS.  363 

tioner  than  of  a  messenger  of  peace:  "Go  and  tell  this 
people,  Hear  ye  indeed,  but  understand  not.  Make  the 
heart  of  this  people  fat,  and  make  their  ears  heavy,  and 
shut  their  eyes,  lest  they  see  with  their  eyes,  and  hear 
with  their  ears,  and  understand  with  their  heart,  and  con- 
vert and  be  healed."  About  seven  hundred  years  after, 
we  find  this  denunciation  applied  to  the  Jews  by  Christ 
himself  in  my  text.  It  was  applied  to  the  same  people 
some  time  after  by  the  evangelist  John.  "  Therefore  they 
could  not  believe,"  says  he,  "because  that  Esaias  said 
again.  He  hath  blinded  their  eyes  and  hardened  their 
hearts ;  that  they  should  not  see  with  their  eyes  nor  under- 
stand with  their  hearts,  and  be  converted,  and  I  should 
heal  them."  Some  years  after,  it  was  applied  by  St.  Paul 
to  the  unbelieving  Jews  in  Eome ;  upon  his  preaching  the 
gospel  to  them,  "  some  believed  the  things  that  were  spo- 
ken, and  some  believed  not;"  and  with  respect  to  the  lat- 
ter, he  says,  "Well  spake  the  Holy  Ghost  by  Isaiah  the 
prophet  unto  our  fathers,  saying,  Go  unto  this  people  and 
say,  Hearing  ye  shall  hear,  and  shall  not  understand ;  and 
seeing  ye  shall  see,  and  not  perceive."  Thus  we  can  trace 
the  accomplishment  of  this  old  denunciation  in  various 
periods.  And  is  it  antiquated,  and  without  force  in  our 
age  ?  May  it  not  reach  to  Yirginia,  and  Hanover,  as  well 
as  to  Judea,  and  Jerusalem  ?  Yes,  my  brethren,  if  the  sin 
of  the  Jews  be  found  among  us ;  that  is,  the  abuse  of  the 
means  of  instruction,  then  the  curse  of  the  Jews  lies  in  full 
force  against  us.  The  ministry  of  the  Word  may  be  con- 
tinued among  us,  but  many  that  attend  upon  it  may  not 
receive  any  advantage  from  it ;  nay,  their  advantage  may 
not  be  so  much  as  intended  by  its  continuance  among 
them,  but  rather  the  aggravation  of  their  sin  and  ruin. 
A  dreadful  thought !  which  I  would  willingly  avoid,  but 
since  I  cannot  exclude  it,  I  will  endeavor  to  make  the  best 
use  of  it  for  your  warning. 

As  to  those  to  whom  my  labors  for  above  ten  years  have 
been  of  no  real  service  for  their  conversion  to  God,  I  must 
own  I  have  very  discouraging  thoughts  of  them.  It  is 
inost  likely,  either  that  God  will  let  them  alone,  and  suffer 
them  to  run  on  into  the  burning,  or  that  he  will  make  use 
of  some  other  hand  to  pluck  them  out.  All  the  means 
that  I  can  use  with  them  have  been  so  often  tried  in  vain, 
there  is  but  little  reason  to  hope  that  they  will  ever  have 


364  THE   GUILT  AND   DOOM   OF 

any  efficacy  -apon  them.  Yet  I  must  not  entirely  despair 
even  of  these ;  I  have  some  little  hope,  sinners,  that  the 
happy  time  is  coming,  when  some  word  spoke  b}^  that  fee- 
ble breath,  which  has  hitherto  only  reached  yonr  ears,  will 
be  enforced  with  almighty  power  upon  your  hearts,  and 
bring  you  to  the  knee  as  broken-hearted  penitents  before 
Grod.  I  cannot  part  with  the  little  hope  I  have,  that  we 
shall  yet  see  a  day  of  the  Son  of  Man  in  this  place;  and 
then  the  old  gospel,  even  from  the  lips  of  your  usual  min- 
ister, will  be  quite  a  new  thing — when  the  hardest  sinner 
among  you  will  not  be  able  to  resist  it  with  so  much  ease 
as  he  does  now,  but  will  be  constrained  to  yield  to  his 
power,  and  be  made  a  willing  captive  to  the  obedience  of 
faith.  Who  could  live  without  some  little  hope  of  this 
kind?  For  can  any  of  you  bear  the  thought,  that  not 
only  veteran  sinners  should  persist  in  their  obstinacy  and 
perish,  but  that  a  new  set  of  immortals,  I  mean  the  crowds 
of  youth  and  children  among  us,  should  grow  up  and 
never  see  a  day  of  divine  power  and  grace  ?  -Alas !  if  this 
should  be  the  case,  they  will  only  grow  up  in  guilt  and 
ripen  for  punishment ;  and  the  religion  that  is  to  be  found 
among  us,  will  die  away  with  its  present  subjects.  Let  us 
therefore  not  only  wish  and  pray  for  such  a  visitation  from 
on  high,  but  let  us  also  humbly  hope  for  it.  We  indeed 
do  not  deserve  it,  but  oh !  God  is  merciful  and  gracious  ; 
and  whenever  he  has  bestowed  this  favor,  it  has  always 
been  upon  the  undeserving.  If  such  a  happy  period  should 
come,  before  my  eyes  are  shut  in  death,  I  should  have  my 
hands  full  of  business  once  more — business  of  the  most 
agreeable  and  benevolent  kind  ;  directing  broken-hearted, 
trembling,  desponding  sinners  to  the  all-sufficient  Saviour, 
Jesus  Christ,  after  whom  but  very  few  are  now  inquiring, 
as  if  he  were  antiquated,  or  become  a  superfluity. 

But  whatever  hopes  I  entertain  of  this  nature,  I  cannot 
but  fear  that  my  ministry  will  continue  useless  to  some  of 
you.  I  am  afraid  some  of  you  will  still  have  your  usual 
opportunity  of  attending  upon  it;  or  "that  hearing  you 
shall  hear,  and  not  understand ;  and  seeing  you  shall  see, 
and  not  perceive."  I  know  no  better  method  to  guard  you 
against  this  danger  than  to  warn  you  of  it  in  time,  and  this 
is  my  principal  design  at  present.     For  this  purpose, 

I  shall  mention  the  presages  and  symptoms  of  the  ap- 
proach of  this  tremendous  judgment — the  judgment  of 


IMPENITENT   HEAEERS.  865 

having  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  continued,  not  as  the 
means  of  salvation,  but  as  the  occasion  of  more  aggravated 
sin  and  punishment. 

Kow  the  presages  and  symptoms  of  the  approach  of  this 
tremendous  judgment  are  such  as  these:  the  abuse  or 
neglect  of  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  in  times  past — incor- 
rigible obstinacy  under  chastisements — growing  insensi- 
bility or  hardness  of  heart — repeated  violences  to  the  mo- 
tions of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  convictions  of  conscience,  or 
obstinate  sinning  against  knowledge — the  withdrawing  of 
divine  influences — and,  as  a  consequence  of  all,  a  general 
decay  of  religion.     In  the  first  place. 

One  constant  23resage  of  this  judgment  is,  the  abuse  or 
neglect  of  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  in  time  past. 

This  is  implied,  as  you  have  seen,  in  the  maxim  on  which 
divine  justice  proceeds  in  the  infliction  of  this  judgment, 
namely,  that  "  from  him  that  hath  not," — who  improves 
not  what  he  hath — "shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which 
he  hath."  This  was  the  character  of  the  Jews,  against 
whom  this  judgment  was  denounced ;  they  had  long  en- 
joyed the  ministry  of  the  prophets,  of  Christ  and  his  apos- 
tles, but  hardened  themselves  against  the  good  effects  of 
it,  and  continued  unreformed  and  impenitent.  In  short, 
all  the  judgments  of  God,  of  every  sort,  are  inflicted  upon 
mankind  only  for  their  sin ;  and,  consequently,  this  judg- 
ment in  particular  proceeds  from  this  cause.  But  then  it 
must  be  remembered  that  this  particular  judgment  is  not 
inflicted  for  every  sin ;  for  who  then  can  escape  ?  but  for 
one  particular  kind  of  sin,  the  neglect  or  non-improvement 
of  the  means  of  grace,  and  particularly  the  ministry  of  the 
gospel.  It  is  because  men  have  heard  so  often  without 
advantage,  that  they  are  condemned  to  hear  without  un- 
derstanding. It  is  because  they  have  had  the  use  of  their 
pves,  and  the  light  of  divine  instruction  shining  around 
them,  a  long  time,  without  their  becoming  wiser  or  better, 
that  they  are  doomed  to  see  and  not  perceive.  This  in 
particular,  and  not  their  sins  in  general,  is  the  cause  of 
this  tremendous  curse. 

And  is  there  no  such  sin  as  this  to  be  found  among  us? 
Have  not  some  of  you  been  favored  with  the  means  of 
grace  for  a  length  of  years,  yet  3'ou  are  still  unconverted, 
ignorant,  and  impenitent?  Do  not  your  consciences  tell 
you  that  you  still  persist  in  the  neglect  of  those  duties  of 


366  THE    GUILT   AND    DOOM    OF 

which  you  have  been  convinced,  and  to  which  you  have 
been  persuaded  a  thousand  times?  And  do  you  not  still 
indulge  some  favorite  sin  though  you  have  been  warned, 
reproved,  dissuaded,  and  reasoned  with,  for  years  together  ? 
What  repeated,  lively  representations  have  you  had  of 
divine  things?  and  yet  are  you  not  still  unaffected  with 
them?  All  that  you  have  heard  of  the  evil  and  danger 
of  sin  has  not  turned  you  from  it  nor  struck  you  with  a 
just  abhorrence  of  it.  All  that  you  have  heard  of  the 
reasonableness,  obligation,  happiness,  and  blessed  conse- 
quences of  the  life  of  religion  has  not  turned  you  to  it;  but 
you  act  as  if  you  were  afraid  you  should  be  converted  and 
God  should  heal  you.  The  very  means  which  have  broken 
the  hearts  of  others  into  ingenuous  repentance  you  have 
had  as  well  as  they,  and  yet  your  hearts  are  hard  and  in- 
sensible ;  nay,  are  they  not  growing  harder  and  harder 
every  day  ?  The  discoveries  of  Jesus  Christ,  made  in  the 
gospel,  have  attracted  the  love  of  thousands  to  him ;  and 
the  very  same  discoveries  have  been  exhibited  to  you,  and 
yet  you  remain  thoughtless  of  him  and  disaffected  to  him. 
To  be  a  little  more  particular :  you  have  had  sufiicient 
means  to  convince  you  of  the  duty  of  family  religion ;  of 
the  evil  of  drunkenness,  lying,  sabbath-breaking,  covetous- 
ness,  pride,  carnal  security,  indifferency  in  religion  ;  of  the 
depravity  of  your  nature,  and  the  absolute  necessity  of  the 
righteousness  of  Christ  jfor  your  justification,  and  of  the 
influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  for  your  sanctification,  and 
yet  these  means  have  had  no  suitable  effect  upon  you — and 
have  you  not  then  reason  to  fear  that  this  judgment  hangs 
over  your  heads,  "that  hearing  you  shall  hear,  and  not 
understand ;  and  seeing  you  shall  see,  and  not  perceive  ? 
Perhaps  the  judgment,  near  as  it  is,  may  be  averted,  if 
you  take  warning,  and  now  begin  with  all  your  might  to 
improve  the  means  of  grace.  But  oh  !  if  you  delay  and 
trifle  on,  the  curse  may  light  upon  you  and  never  be 
removed,  and  then  you  are  as  certainly  and  irrecoverably 
undone,  as  if  the  gates  of  eternal  despair  were  now  shut 
upon  you. 

Secondly,  Incorrigible  obstinacy  under  the  chastisements 
of  the  divine  hand  is  another  dreadful  presage  of  the 
approach  of  this  judgment. 

The  various  afflictions — public,  domestic,  and  personal, 
with  which  our  heavenly  Father  chastises  the  sons  of  men, 


IMPENITENT   HEARERS.  367 

are  excellent  means  of  repentance  and  reformation,  and 
they  liave  often  effect  upon  those  with  whom  all  other 
means  had  been  used  in  vain.'  But  when  even  these 
wholesome  severities,  which  one  would  think  would  awaken 
the  most  secure  to  some  sensibility,  are  obstinately  disre- 
o-arded,  and  men  sin  on  still  even  under  the  angry  hand  of 
God  lifted  up  to  smite  them,  it  argues  an  incorrigible 
hardness  of  heart,  and  they  incur  the  same  curse  with 
those  that  misiraprove  the  ministry  of  the  gospel.  The 
affliction  may  be  removed ;  but  it  may  be  removed  in 
judgment  as  a  fether  gives  over  correcting  an  incorrigible 
child  and  leaves  him  to  himself  But  oh !  how  much 
better  to  lie  under  the  rod,  than  to  be  given  up  as  despe- 
rate, and  for  that  reason  dismissed  from  the  discipline  of 
our  heavenly  Father ! 

Growing  insensibility  or  hardness  of  heart  is,  thirdly^ 
a  most  threatening  presage  of  the  near  approach  of  this 
awful  judgment.  This,  indeed,  is  the  very  beginning  of 
the  judgment  and  the  first  perceivable  effect  of  it;  and 
as  the  sinner  improves  in  hardness  of  heart,  this  curse 
falls  heavier  upon  him  and  is  the  cause  of  this  ho^Tid  im- 
provement. Hence  you  find  in  Scripture,  a  hard  heart, 
a  stiff'  neck,  a  reprobate  mind,  a  seared  conscience,  a  soul 
past  feeling,  are  mentioned  as  the  dreadful  characteristics 
of  a  soul  judicially  given  up  of  God.  And  is  every  heart 
among  us  free  from  this  alarming  sympton  ?  Can  every 
one  among  us  say,  "  I  am  as  easily  and  deeply  affected 
with  eternal  things,  and  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  has  as 
much  effect  upon  me  now,  as  it  had  five  or  ten  years  ago  ?" 
Alas !  must  not  some  of  you  say  on  the  other  hand, 
"  Once  I  remember  I  was  deeply  concerned  about  my 
everlasting  state ;  some  years  ago  I  was  alarmed  with  a 
sense  of  my  sin  and  danger,  and  earnestly  used  my  utmost 
endeavors  to  obtain  an  interest  in  the  Saviour ;  but  now 
it  is  all  over.  Now  I  lie  secure  and  unconcerned,  except 
that  now  and  then  I  am  involuntarily  seized  with  pangs 
of  despairing  horror,  which  wear  off*  without  any  good 
effect.  But  though  I  am  now  so  easy  and  careless,  I  can- 
not pretend,  that  my  state  is  really  more  safe  now  than  it 
was  when  I  was  so  anxiously  concerned  about  it."  May 
not  this  be  the  language  of  some  of  you  ?  If  so,  I  most 
honestly' tell  you,  you  are  near  cursing.  Your  hearts  are 
waxen  fat,  and  your  ears  are  dull  of  hearing;  and  there- 


868  THE   GUILT   AND   DOOM   OF 

fore  you  have  great  reason  to  fear  the  dreadful  God, 
whose  grace  and  patience  you  have  so  long  ungratefully 
abused,  is  about  to  pronounce  the  sentence  upon  you, 
"  Hearing  ye  shall  hear,  and  not  understand  ;  and  seeing 
ye  shall  see,  and  not  perceive :"  you  shall  enjoy  the  means 
of  grace  as  usual,  but  you  shall  receive  no  advantage  from 
them.  Must  not  your  hearts  meditate  terror  while  this 
heavy  curse  hangs  over  you  ?  And  will  you  not  fly  from 
it  and  use  all  means  possible  to  escape  ? 

Fourthly^  Kepeated  violences  of  the  Spirit  of  God  and 
your  own  consciences,  or  an  obstinate  continuance  in  sin 
against  knowledge,  is  an  alarming  symptom  of  the  ap- 
proach of  this  judgment.  Though  a  distinction  may  be 
made  in  some  instances  between  those  restraints  and  good 
tendencies  which  proceed  from  your  own  consciences,  it  is 
not  my  present  purpose  to  make  the  distinction.  They 
both  tend  to  restrain  you  from  sin  and  excite  you  to  a 
religious  life,  and  therefore  their  tendency  is  the  same. 
And  I  doubt  not  but  the  Spirit  of  God  and  your  own  con- 
sciences have  repeatedly  striven  even  with  the  most 
hardened  sinner  among  you;  and  it  has  often  cost  you 
violent  struggling  to  make  effectual  resistance.  Have  you 
not  had  some  thoughtful,  pensive,  solemn  intervals  not- 
withstanding all  your  preposterous  endeavors  to  live  a 
life  of  dissipation  and  to  continue  in  your  thoughtless 
career?  Have  you  not  had  strong  convictions  of  your 
guilt  and  danger,  and  the  necessity  of'  a  new  heart  and  a 
new  life,  and  dismal  misgivings  and  forebodings  of  heart 
as  to  the  consequences  of  your  present  conduct?  Have 
you  not  in  these  solemn  moments  formed  many  good 
resolutions  and  vows,  and  determined  you  would  live  no 
longer  as  you  have  done?  Have  you  not  found  your- 
selves, as  it  were,  weary  and  surfeited  with  a  course  of 
sin,  and  your  desires  going  after  Christ?  Has  not  some 
sermon,  or  passage  of  Scripture,  or  alarming  providence, 
roused  you  for  a  while  out  of  your  security,  and  had  a 
strange,  irresistible  force  upon  your  hearts?  Well,  in 
such  seasons  as  these,  the  Holy  Spirit  and  your  own  con- 
sciences were  striving  with  you ;  and  had  you  cherished 
those  sacred  motions  you  might  ere  now  have  been  sincere 
converts  and  heirs  of  Heaven.  But,  alas !  have  you  not 
rebelled  and  grieved  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  done  violence 
to   your   own   consciences?     Have   you    not    talked,    or 


IMPENITENT   HEARERS.  .  369 

laughed,  or  trifled,  or  labored  away  these  thoughtful 
hours,  and  done  your  utmost  to  recover  your  stupid  se- 
curity again  ?  Alas !  in  so  doing  you  trod  in  the  very 
steps  of  those  desperate  sinners  who  have  been  abandoned 
of  Grod,  and  sealed  up  under  his  irrevocable  curse.  Many, 
indeed,  who  have  done  this  have  at  length  been  subdued 
by  the  power  of  .God  and  happily  constrained  to  forego 
all  their  resistance ;  but  oh !  this  has  not  been  the  blessed 
end  of  all  who  have  thus  fought  against  Grod ;  no,  many 
of  them  have  been  given  up  and  allowed  to  gain  a  victory 
ruinous  to  themselves.  Therefore,  as  you  have  reason  to 
hope,  you  have  also  reason  to  fear;  and  you  have  un- 
doubtedly good  reason  to  give  over  your  resistance  and 
submit  to  God  and  conscience,  lest  he  abandon  you  to 
yourselves.  And  then,  though  you  may  still  enjoy  the 
gospel  and  its  ordinances,  they  will  be  of  no  service  to 
you ;  nay,  this  will  not  be  the  end*  God  has  in  view  in 
continuing  these  privileges ;  his  design  is  the  benefit  of 
others  who  mingle  with  you  in  the  same  assembly,  and 
enjoy  these  means  in  common  with  you.  They  may  be 
converted  and  healed  by  them.  But  as  for  you,  "  hearing 
ye  shall  hear,  and  not  understand;  and  seeing  ye  shall 
see,  and  not  perceive ;"  and  this  will  be  "  your  condem- 
nation, that  light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  you  have 
loved  darkness  rather  than  light." 

Under  this  head  I  must  add,  that  every  instance  of 
willful  sinning  against  knowledge  is  the  most  dangerous 
and  provoking  manner  of  sinning.  The  language  of  such 
a  practice  is,  "Lord,  I  know  this  is  displeasing  to  thee; 
and  yet  I  will  do  it."  What  .insufferable  insolence  is  this 
in  a  worm  of  the  earth!  How  provoking  must  it  be  to 
the  supreme  Majesty !  and  what  ravages  must  it  make  in. 
the  conscience !  The  wretch  that  can  venture  upon  this, 
may  venture  upon  any  thing.  Surely  such  a  course  of 
willful  sinning  against  knowledge,  must  expose  the  daring 
sinner  to  the  heaviest  judgment  of  Heaven.  And  accord- 
ing to  the  course  of  nature,  it  tends  to  harden  him  in  im- 
penitence; for  the  only  way  in  which  a  sinner  may  be 
wrought  upon  for  his  conversion  is  by  letting  him  know 
his  duty ;  but  when  he  puts  this  knowledge  at  defiance, 
and  obstinately  does  his  pleasure  in  spite  of  it,  what  ser- 
vice can  instruction  do  to  him  ?  What  benefit  can  he  re- 
ceive from  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  ?     It  is  time  such  a 


370  THE   GUILT   ANI>   DOOM    OF 

one  should  be  left  "to  hear  and  not  understand,  and  see 
and  not  perceive."  Indeed  this  is  in  a  great  measure  his 
character  already.  He  runs  into  ruin  with  his  eyes  open, 
and  wittingly  rejects  the  means  of  salvation. 

Fifthlij,  The  withdrawal  of  divine  influence  is  a  dismal 
symptom  of  this  judgment. 

Whatever  proud  and  self-conceited  notions  men  entertain 
of  their  sufficiency  for  the  purposes  of  religion,  it  is  a  cer- 
tain truth,  confirmed  by  the  testimony  of  Scripture  and  the 
experience  of  near  six  thousand  years,  that  the  blessed 
Spirit  of  Grod  is  the  sole  author  of  all  that  little  religion  that 
has  been  among  men  in  every  age ;  and  when  he  with- 
draws, then  rehgion  withers  like  the  fruits  of  the  earth 
without  air  and  rain.  It  is  also  evident,  both  from  Scrip- 
ture and  the  history  of  the  church,  that  there  are  certain 
seasons  in  which  the  Spirit  is  plentifully  poured  out ;  and 
then  multitudes  of  sinners  that  had  sat  under  the  gospel 
unmoved  from  year  to  year,  are  converted ;  and  religion 
wears  another  aspect  in  a  country  or  a  congregation,  accord- 
ing to  the  extent  of  the  showers  of  divine  influences.  Then 
the  case  of  sinners  is  hopeful ;  for  God  works  eftectually 
within,  and  there  are  many  peculiar  helps  and  advantages 
for  conversion  without;  then  ministers  preach  and  Christians 
pray,  converse,  and  do  every  thing  in  another  manner :  a 
manner  peculiarly  adapted  to  strike  conviction,  to  lead  the 
convinced  to  Christ,  and  to  bring  down  blessings  upon  the 
world.  But  when  the  abuse  of  so  great  a  blessing  provokes 
a  jealous  Grod  to  withdraw  his  influences,  then  the  aflairs 
of  religion  put  on  another  face :  offences  happen ;  a  spirit 
of  contention  begins  to  rise ;  sinners  grow  insolent ;  the 
gospel  loses  its  force  upon  the  consciences  of  men ;  ministers 
grow  languid  and  faint-hearted,  and  though  their  composi- 
tions may  be  even  more  judicious  and  masterly  than  when 
they  had  more  effect,  yet  the  spirit,  the  life,  the  energy, 
the  unknown  something,  that  gave  them  their  irresistible 
efficacy,  is  wanting.  But  few  sinners  are  awakened  ;  and 
the  impressions  of  such  are  superficial,  and  they  seem  to 
halt  and  make  but  slow  progress  in  returning  to  Grod;  and 
as  to  the  crowd  of  sinners,  they  go  on  careless,  unawakened, 
and  unreformed  under  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  and 
harden  themselves  more  against  it.  It  is  comparatively  an 
easy  thing  for  them  to  keep  down  conscience,  to  resist  the 
Spirit,  and  to  siu  away  the  week,  though  they  have  heard 


IMPENITENT  HEARERS.  371 

the  gospel  on  Sunday.  N'ow  in  such  a  season  the  case  of 
sinners  is  very  discouraging;  there  is  but  a  very  dull 
chance,  if  I  may  so  speak,  for  their  conversion.  They  may 
''  hear  indeed,  but  they  do  not  understand ;  they  may  see 
indeed,  but  not  perceive."  And  from  the  brief  description 
I  have  given  you  of  such  a  season,  have  you  not  reason  to 
fear  that  it  is  your  lot  to  live  in  such  a  time?  a  time  when 
the  blessed  Spirit,  that  has  long  been  striving  with  Hanover, 
has,  in  a  great  measure,  left  it  in  displeasure  and  in  judg- 
ment :  he  has  left  it,  you  may  be  sure  he  has  left  it  in  dis- 
pleasure and  in  judgment :  he  has  left  it,  because  he  has 
been  ill-treated,  and  could  bear  it  no  longer.  And  he  is 
gone !  Then  the  glory  is  departed  I  You  may  still  have 
your  favorite  minister  ;  you  may  still  have  sermons  and  all 
the  ordinances  of  the  gospel  ;  but,  alas !  "  hearing  you 
shall  hear,  and  not  understand ;  and  seeing  you  shall  see, 
and  not  perceive."  And  the  very  means  that  ripen  others 
for  heaven  will  only  cause  you  to  rot  and  putrefy  till  you 
drop,  as  it  were  by  your  own  weight,  into  hell. 

When  the  Spirit  is  withdrawn,  it  is  not  only  a  sign  that 
the  judgment  threatened  in  my  text  is  near,  but  that  it  is 
actually  executed ;  for  the  absence  of  the  Spirit  is  the  rea- 
son why  sinners  attend  upon  the  ministry  of  the  gospel 
without  any  real  advantage.  The  curse  is  actually  fallen ; 
but,  oh  1  I  hope  it  may  be  removed,  at  least  from  some  of 
you ;  and  now  is  the  time  for  you  to  make  the  trial. 

Lastly,  A  general  decay  of  religion  is  a  symptom,  and 
indeed  a  part,  of  this  judgment. 

This  is  the  consequence  of  the  foregoing  particulars ;  and 
when  this  is  the  case,  it  is  evident  the  judgment  has  fallen 
upon  some  and  is  likely  to  fall  upon  many.  When  a  peo- 
ple enjoy  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  and  yet  religion  does 
not  gain  ground,  but  declines,  then  it  is  evident,  some 
"  hearing,  hear  not,  and  seeing,  see  not." 

And  I  leave  you  to  judge  whether  this  alarming  symp- 
tom be  not  upon  us.  Religion  is  evidently  declining  among 
us  in  some  instances ;  and  how  little  ground  does  it  gain  in 
others  ? 

To  conclude.  Let  such  of  you  as  have  reason  to  appre- 
hend that  you  are  "  near  unto  cursing,"  pay  a  proper  re- 
gard to  this  consideration,  that  if  it  be  possible  to  escape  it, 
now  is  the  most  likely  time  you  will  ever  see,  and  the 
longer  you  delay  the  greater  will  be  your  danger.     There- 


372  THE   RELIGIOUS   IMPKOVEMENT 

fore,  now  endeavor  with  all  your  might  to  hear  to  purpose 
when  you  do  hear,  and  to  see  to  advantage  when  you  do 
see.  "  Behold,  now  is  the  accepted  time  ;  behold,  now  is 
the  day  of  salvation." 


XXXV 

THE  RELIGIOUS  IMPROVEMENT  OF  THE  LATE  EARTHQUAKE.* 

"  Tlie  foundations  of  the  earth  do  shake.  .  The  earth  is  utterly  broken 
down  ;  the  earth  is  clean  dissolved  ;  the  earth  is  moved  exceedingly.  The 
earth  shall  reel  to  and  fro  like  a  drunkard,  and  shall  be  removed  like  a 
cottage  ;  and  the  transgression  thereof  shall  lie  heavy  upon  it,  a\jd  it  shall 
fall  and  not  rise  again." — Isaiah,  xxiv.  18,  19,  20. 

The  works  of  Creation  and  Providence  were  undoubtedly 
intended  for  the  notice  and  contemplation  of  mankind,  es- 
pecially when  God  comes  out  of  his  place,  that  is,  departs 
from  the  u^al  and  stated  course  of  his  providence,  to  punish 
the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  for  their  iniquities — then  it  be- 
comes us  to  observe  the  operation  of  his  hands  with  fear 
and  reverence.  To  this  the  psalmist  repeatedly  calls  us  : 
"Come  and  see  the  works  of  the  Lord;  he  is  terrible  in  his 
doings  towards  the  children  of  men."  To  assist  you  in  this 
I  shall  cheerfully  devote  an  hour  to-day. 

Perhaps  there  never  was  since  the  earthquake  at  the 
delnge,  that  broke  up  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep,  so 
extensive  a  desolation  of  this  kind  as  has  lately  happened 
in  Europe  and  Africa.  And  though,  blessed  be  God,  it  did 
not  immediately  affect  us,  yet  the  very  fame  of  so  dreadful 
a  judgment  ought  to  be  improved  for  our  advantage.  To 
this  event  I  may  accommodate  the  words  of  my  text,  "The 
foundations  of  the  earth,"  &c. 

Such  of  you  as  have  read  the  public  papers  need  not  be 
informed  of  that  wide-spreading  earthquake,  which  begun 
on  the  first  of  November  last,  and  has  since  been  felt  at 
different  times  through  most  parts  of  Europe.  For  the 
sake  of  those  that  have  only  had  imperfect  hints  of  it,  I 
would  give  you  this  short  history.    Tlie  city  of  Lisbon,  con- 

*  Preached  in  Hanover  County,  Virginia,  June  19,  175G. 


OF  THE   LATE   EAKTHQUAKE.  373 

taining  about  three  hundred  thousand  souls,  is  now  no 
more !  Its  vast  riches,  and,  by  all  accounts,  between  fifty 
and  a  hundred  thousand  persons,  have  been  buried  or  burnt 
in  its  ruins.  Sundry  other  towns  in  Portugal,  Spain,  and 
along  the  European  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean,  have  been 
damaged,  overthrown,  or  sunk,  like  Sodom  and  Gomorrah. 
The  earthquake  extended  across  the  sea,  and  has  ruined  a 
great  part  of  Africa,  particularly  in  the  empire  of  Morocco, 
where  the  large  and  populous  cities  of  Mequinez,  Fez,  and 
the  port  of  Sallee  have  been  demolished,  with  many  thou- 
sands of  the  inhabitants.  It  has  likewise  been  felt  in  sun- 
dry parts  of  Italy,  Grermany,  France,  Bohemia,  and  even  in 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland.  Nay,  the  tremor  has  reached 
our  continent,  and  has  been  very  sensibly  felt  in  Boston 
and  other  parts  of  ISTew  England.  Though  much  mischief 
has  not  been  done  in  those  parts,  yet  a  loud  warning  has 
been  given ;  and  oh !  that  it  may  not  be  given  in  vain. 
It  would  certainly  be  an  instance  of  inexcusable  stupidity 
for  us  to  take  no  notice  of  so  dreadfal  a  dispensation.  Such 
devastations  are  at  once  judgments  upon  the  places  where 
they  happen,  and  v:arnings  to  others.  For  what  end  were 
the  Israelites  punished  with  so  many  miraculous  judgments? 
St.  Paul  will  tell  you,  it  was  not  only  for  their  sins,  but  "  all 
these  things  happened  to  them  for  eiisamples,  and  they  are 
written  for  our  admonition,  upon  whom  the  ends  of  the 
world  are  come."  For  what  end  were  the  cities  of  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah  turned  into  ashes  ?  St.  Peter  will  tell  you, 
God  "  made  them  an  ensara'ple  unto  those  that  should  after 
live  ungodly."  And  shall  not  lue  regard  such  examples, 
even  in  our  own  age  ?  Shall  others  perish  for  our  admoni- 
tion ?  and  shall  we  receive  no  profit  by  their  destruction  ? 
This  would  be  stupid  and  inexcusable  indeed.  Therefore, 
my  present  design  is  to  direct  you  to  such  meditations  as 
this  alarming  event  naturally  suggests,  and  which  may  be 
sufficient  to  the  right  improvement  of  it. 

But  before  I  enter  upon  this  design,  I  would  once  more 
inculcate  upon  you  a  doctrine,  which  I  have  often  proved 
in  your  hearing,  and  that  is,  that  this  world  is  a  little  ter- 
ritory of  Jehovah's  government — under  the  management 
of  his  providence ;  and  particularly,  that  all  the  blessings 
of  life  are  the  gifts  of  his  bounty,  and  all  its  calamities  the 
chastisements  or  judgments  of  his  hand.  This  I  would 
have  you  to  apply  to  the  event  now  under  consideration. 

82 


374:  THE   RELIGIOUS   IMPROVEMENT 

It  is  the  providence  of  God  that  has  impregnated  the  bowels 
of  the  earth  with  these  dreadful  materials  that  tear  and 
shatter  its  frame.  It  is  his  providence  that  strikes  the  spark 
which  sets  this  dreadful  train  in  a  flame  and  causes  the 
terrible  explosion.  There  is  a  set  of  conceited  philoso- 
phers risen  among  us  who  think  they  disprove  all  this, 
by  alleging  that  earthquakes  proceed  from  natural  causes, 
and  therefore  it  is  superstitious  to  ascribe  them  to  the 
agency  of  Providence.  But  there  is  no  more  reason  or 
philosophy  in  this,  than  if  they  should  deny  that  a  man 
writes  because  he  makes  use  of  a  pen,^  or  that  kings  exer- 
cise government  because  they  employ  servants  under 
them.  I  grant  that  natural  causes  concur  toAvard  the  pro- 
duction of  earthquakes ;  but  what  are  these  natural  cau- 
ses ?  Are  they  independent,  self-moved  causes  ?  JSTo ;  they 
were  first  formed  and  are  still  directed  by  the  divine  hand. 
The  shortest  and  plainest  view  I  can  give  of  the  case  is 
this :  When  God  formed  this  globe  he  saw  what  would 
be  the  conduct  of  its  inhabitants  in  all  the  periods  of  time ; 
and  particularly  he  knew  at  what  particular  time  a  king- 
dom or  city  would  be  ripe  for  his  judgments,  and  he  ad- 
justed matters  accordingly.  He  set  the  train  with  so  much 
exactness,  that  it  will  spring  just  in  the  critical  moment 
when  every  thing  is  ripe  for  it.  And  thus,  by  a  precon- 
certed plan,  he  answers  all  the  occasional  exigences  of  the 
world,  and  suits  himself  to  particular  cases  without  a  mira- 
cle"", or  controlling  the  laws  of  nature ;  or,  perhaps,  he  may 
sometimes  think  it  necessary  to  work  with  his  own  imme- 
diate hand,  and  to  suspend  or  counteract  the  usual  and  stated 
laws  of  creation,  that  his  interference  may  be  conspicuoils. 
Let  this  truth,  then,  be  laid  deep  in  your  minds,  as  a  foun- 
dation, that  earthquakes  are  the  effects  of  divine  provi- 
dence, and  produced  to  answer  some  of  its  important  ends 
in  the  world.  And  hence  I  naturally  proceed,  according 
to  promise,  to  direct  you  to  such  meditations  as  are  suita- 
ble to  this  event.  Now  you  may  hence  take  occasion  to 
reflect  upon  the  majesty  and  power  of  God,  and  the  dread- 
fulness  of  his  anger,  the  sinfulness  of  our  world,  and  the 
destruction  of  this  globe  at  the  final  judgment. 

First,  Let  the  majestic  and  terrible  phenomenon  of 
earthquakes  put  you  in  mind  of  the  majesty  of  Ood  and  the 
wonderfulness  of  his  displeasure.  He  can  toss  and  convulse 
tliis  hug^e  clobe,  and  shake  its  foundations  down  to  the 


OF  THE   LATE   EARTHQUAKE.  375 

centre.  Trembling  continents,  burning  or  sinking  moun- 
tains, wide-yawning  gulfs  in  solid  ground,  explosions  of 
subterranean  mines  sufficient  to  shiver  a  world,  are  but 
hints  of  his  indignation.  But  my  language  does  but  sink 
this  exalted  subject ;  I  shall  therefore  give  you  the  inimit- 
able descriptions  of  the  sacred  writers.  "He  is  wise  in 
heart,"  says  Job,  "  and  mighty  in  strength ;  who  hath  hard- 
ened himself  against  him  and  hath  prospered  ?  he  remov- 
eth  the  mountains,  and  they  know  it  not ;  he  overturneth 
them  in  his  anger;  he  shaketh  the  earth  out  of  her  place, 
and  the  pillars  thereof  tremble."  "  A  fire  is  kindled  in 
mine  anger,"  says  the  Lord  himself  in  his  own  language, 
"and  shall  burn  unto  the  lowest  hell,  and  shall  consume 
the  earth  with  her  increase,  and  set  on  fire  the  foundations 
of  the  mountains."  But  the  most  striking  and  lively  de- 
scription^ methinks,  which  the  language  of  inspiration  itself 
has  given  us,  is  in  the  prophecy  of  Nahum :  "  God  is  jeal- 
ous, and  the  Lord  revengeth  ;  the  Lord  revengeth  and  is 
furious ;  the  Lord  will  take  vengeance  on  his  adversaries, 
and  he  reserveth  wrath  for  his  enemies ;  the  Lord  hath  his 
way  in  the  whirlwind  and  in  the  storm,  and  the  clouds 
are  the  dust  of  his  feet.  He  rebuketh  the  sea  and  maketh 
it  dry,  and  drieth  up  all  the  rivers  ;  the  mountains  quake  at 
him,  and  the  hills  melt ;  and  the  earth  is  burnt  at  his  pres- 
ence ;  yea,  the  world  and  they  that  dwell  therein.  Who 
can  stand  before  his  indignation  ?  and  who  abide  in  the 
fierceness  of  his  anger  ?  his  fury  is  poured  out  like  fire, 
and  the  rocks  are  thrown  down  by  him."  And  is  this  the 
Being  that  is  so  little  thought  of  in  our  world?  Is  this  he 
whose  name  passes  for  the  veriest  trifle  ?  whose  word  can 
hardly  keep  men  awake  or  engage  their  attention  ?  whose 
authority  is  less  regarded,  and  whose  resentment  is  less 
feared  than  that  of  an  earthly  king  ?  whose  laws  are  auda- 
ciously violated  and  his  threatenings  despised  ?  Is  this  he 
who  is  complimented  with  empty,  spiritless  formalities 
under  the  name  of  religion  ?  Oh  !  is  this  he  whom  we  are 
met  this  day  to  worship  ?  What !  and  shall  there  be  no 
more  attention  and  solemnity  among  us  ?  Can  any  thing- 
be  more  unnatural,  more  impious,  or  more  shocking  ?  In- 
deed, sirs,  it  strikes  me  with  horror  to  think  how  contemp- 
tuously this  glorious,  almighty,  and  terrible  God  is  treated 
in  our  world.  Angels  do  not  treat  him  so;  nay,  even 
devils,  in  the  height  of  their  malice,  dare  not  thus  trifle 


876  THE   KELIGIOUS   IMPKOVEMENT 

with  him ;  they  tremble  at  his  very  name.  Oh  1  "  where- 
fore doth  the  wicked  contemn  God  ?"  See,  here  is  your  an- 
tagonist, and  can  you  make  good  your  cause  against  him  ? 
Can  you  harden  yourselves  against  him  and  prosper  ? 
This  earth  is  as  nothing  in  his  hands.  "  He  taketh  up  the 
isles  as  a  very  little  thing."  He  that  can  shake  this  huge 
globe  to  the  centre ;  he  that  can  bury  proud  cities,  with 
all  their  inhabitants,  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth ;  he  that 
can  toss  the  ocean  into  a  ferment,  and  cause  it  to  over- 
whelm the  guilty  land ;  he  that  can  hurl  the  tallest  moun- 
tains from  their  everlasting  foundations  into  the  sea,  or 
sink  them  into  the  valleys,  or  pools  of  water ;  he  that  has 
stored  the  bowels  of  the  earth  as  with  magazines  of  gun- 
powder, and  can  set  it  all  in  a  blaze,  or  burst  it  into  ten 
thousand  fragments — oh !  what  will  He  make  of  you  when 
he  takes  you  in  hand  ?  Can  you  rest  easy  one  moment, 
while  you  have  reason  to  fear  the  supreme  Lord  of  nature 
is  your  enemy  for  your  willful  provocations  ?  In  his  name 
I  charge  you  to  seek  his  favor ;  make  him  your  friend, 
and  dare  to  rebel  against  him  no  more.  Dare  you  contin- 
ue a  rebel  against  him,  or  careless  about  pleasing  him, 
while  you  walk  on  his  ground,  breathe  in  his  air,  feed  up- 
on his  provisions,  and  live  in  his  territories,  and  within  the 
reach  of  his  arm  ?  Why,  he  can  make  the  earth  you  pol- 
lute with  your  sins  open  its  dreadful  jaws  and  swallow  you 
up  alive,  like  Korah  and  his  company.  Oh  !  it  may  break 
our  hearts  to  think  there  should  be  any  of  the  sons  of  men 
so  mad  as  to  incur  his  displeasure  and  be  careless  about  his 
favor.  But,  alas !  are  there  not  some  such  among  us  ? 
Well,  they  will  soon  find,  "  it  is  a  fearful  thing  to  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  living  God,"  unless  they  speedily  repent. 
Secondly,  This  desolating  judgment  may  justly  lead  you 
to  reflect  upon  the  sinfulness  of  our  luorld.  Alas !  we  live 
upon  a  guilty  globe ;  and  much  has  it  suffered  for  the  sins 
of  its  inhabitants.  Once  it  was  all  drowned  in  a  universal 
deluge,  and  many  parts  of  it  have  since  sunk  under  the 
load  of  guilt.  If  sin  had  never  defiled  it,  it  would  never 
have  been  thus  torn  and  shattered.  We  have  seen,  these 
judgments  are  at  the  disposal  of  Providence,  and  we  are 
sure  a  righteous  Providence  would  never  inflict  them  for 
nothing.  It  is  sin,  my  brethren,  that  is  the  source  of  all 
the  calamities  that  oppress  our  world  from  age  to  age — it 
is  sin  that  has  often  convulsed  it  with  earthquakes.     Do 


OF   THE    LATE   EARTHQUAKE.  377 

you  not  observe  the  language  of  my  text  on  this  head. 
"  The  transgression  of  the  earth  shall  lie  heavy  upon  it." 
This,  sirs,  this  is  the  burden  under  which  it  totters  ;  this  is 
the  evil  at  which  it  trembles ;  this  is  a  load  which  men, 
which  the  earth  itself,  nay,  which  angels  and  the  whole 
creation  cannot  bear  up  under.  Why  was  the  old  world 
destroyed  by  a  deluge  ?  It  was  because  "  all  flesh  had  cor- 
rupted their  way ;  because  the  wickedness  of  man  was 
great  upon  earth,  and  every  imagination  of  the  thoughts 
of  his  heart  was  only  evil,  and  that  continually."  Why 
was  Sodom  consumed  with  lightning  from  heaven,  and 
sunk  into  a  dead  sea  by  an  earthquake?  It  was  because 
"  the  men  of  Sodom  were  wicked,  and  sinners  before  the 
Lord  exceedingly."  In  short,  sin  is  the  cause  of  all  the 
calamities  under  which  our  world  has  groaned  from  the 
fall  of  Adam  to  this  day.  Heaven  has  been  testifying  its 
displeasure  against  the  sins  of  men  by  the  most  terrible 
judgments,  from  age  to  age,  for  near  six  thousand  3^ears. 
The  destruction  of  one  nation  is  intended  not  only  for  their 
punishment,  but  for  a  warning  to  others,  "that  they  may 
hear,  and  fear,  and  do  no  more  so  wickedly."  But  men 
will  obstinately  persist,  unalarmed  by  the  loudest  warnings, 
and  unreformed  by  the  severest  chastisements.  Let  the 
sword  of  war  slay  its  thousands — let  the  pestilence  Avalk 
about  in  all  its  desolating  terrors — let  the  earth  shake  and 
tremble  under  its  guilty  inhabitants — let  these  judgments 
be  repeated  from  generation  to  generation,  from  country  to 
country,  still  they  will  sin  on;  and  the  chastisements  of 
six  thousand  years  have  not  been  able  to  reform  them. 
Oh !  what  a  rebellious  province  of  Jehovah's  empire  is  this ; 
and  probably  it  has  been  seldom  more  so  than  in  the  present 
age,  and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  judgments  of 
God  are  in  the  earth.  The  greater  part  of  it  is  overrun 
with  all  the  idolatry  and  ignorance,  vice  and  barbarity  of 
heathenism.  A  great  part  of  it  worship  the  impostor 
Mahomet  instead  of  the  Son  of  Grod,  and  groan  under  his 
yoke.  The  greatest  part  of  Europe  is  corrupted  with  the 
idolatry,  superstition,  and  debaucheries  of  the  church  of 
Bome,  and  groans  under  its  tyranny.  There  the  most  fool- 
ish theatrical  farces  are  devoutly  performed  under  the 
name  of  religion — there  the  free-born  mind  is  enslaved, 
and  dare  not  think  for  itself  in  matters  in  which  it  must 
answer  for  itself — there  the  homage  due  to  the  true  God 

o 


378  THE  liELIGIOUS  IMPROVEMENT 

and  the  only  Mediator  is  sacrilegiously  given  to  senseless 
idols,  and  a  rabble  of  imaginary  saints — there  a  market 
for  indulgences  and  pardons  is  held,  and  men,  for  a  little 
money,  may  buy  a  license  to  commit  the  most  atrocious 
crimes,  or  they  make  atonement  for  them  by  the  penance 
of  bodily  austerities.  And  can  pure  and  undefiled  religion, 
can  good  morals  grow  and  flourish  in  such  a  soil  ?  No ; 
religion  must  degenerate  into  priestcraft  and  a  mercenary 
superstition,  and  the  most  enormous  vices  and  debaucheries 
must  abound.  Such,  alas !  was  Lisbon,  by  universal  char- 
acter. 

And  though  I  would  not  repeat  the  censorious  sin  of  the 
Jews,  with  regard  to'  the  Galileans,  nor  suppose  that  this 
city  was  more  deeply  guilty  than  all  the  cities  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth ;  yet  I  dare  pronounce  that  it  was  a  very 
guilty  spot  of  the  globe,  and  that  it  was  for  this  it  was  so 
severely  punished.  If  we  take  a  survey  of  Protestant 
countries,  where  religion  is  to  be  found,  if  anywhere  at 
all,  alas !  how  melancholy  is  the  prospect !  The  good  old 
doctrines  of  the  Reformation,  which  were  adapted  to  ad- 
vance the  honors  of  divine  grace  and  mortify  the  pride  of 
man,  have  been  too  generally  abandoned,  and  a  more  easy 
system,  agreeable  to  the  vanity  and  self-flattery  of  depraved 
hearts,  has  been  dressed  up  in  their  stead.  Nay,  Christi- 
anity itself  has  been  rejected,  ridiculed,  and  exposed  to 
public  scorn  by  the  increasing  club  of  deists ;  and  where 
the  Christian  name  and  profession  are  retained,  the  life  and 
spirit  are  too  generally  lost;  and  the  practice,  an  open 
opposition  to  their  professed  faith.  How  are  the  ordinances 
of  the  gospel  neglected  or  profaned !  What  a  shocking 
variety  of  crimes  are  to  be  found  everywhere,  even  in 
countries  that  profess  to  have  renounced  popery  for  its 
corruptions?  Drunkenness,  swearing,  perjury,  lying,  fraud, 
and  injustice ;  pride,  luxury,  various  forms  of  lewdness, 
and  all  manner  of  extravagances ;  and  all  these  expressly 
forbidden,  under  the  severest  penalties,  by  that  religion 
which  themselves  profess  and  acknowledge  divine ;  and 
thus  they  continue,  in  spite  of  warnings  and  chastisements — 
in  spite  of  mercies  and  instructions.  They  have  sinned  on 
impenitent  and  incorrigible  for  a  length  of  years.  God  is 
but  little  regarded  in  the  world  which  owes  its  existence 
and  all  its  blessings  to  his  power  and  goodness.  Jesus  is 
but  little  regarded  even  in  those  countries  that  profess  his 


OF   THE   LATE   EARTHQUAKE.  879 

name ;  and  is  it  any  wonder  the  earth  trembles  when  the 
iniquity  thereof  lies  so  heavy  upon  it?  Is  it  not  rather  a 
wonder  that  it  has  not  burst  to  pieces  long  ago,  and  buried 
its  guilty  inhabitants  in  its  ruins  ?  Is  there  a  supreme 
Euler  over  the  kingdoms  of  men,  and  shall  he  not  testify 
his  displeasure  against  their  rebellion?  Shall  he  always 
tamely  submit  to  such  contemptuous  treatment?  And 
shall  he  always  look  on  and  see  his  government  insulted 
and  his  vengeance  defied  ?  Ko ;  at  proper  seasons  he  will 
come  forth  out  of  his  place — he  will  depart  from  the  stated 
course  of  his  providence,  to  punish  them  for  their  iniqui- 
ties. The  convulsions  of  the  earth,  the  inundations  of  the 
sea,  and  the  sword  of  war  shall  at  once  proclaim  and 
execute  his  displeasure. 

Thirdly^  That  which  I  would  particularly  suggest  to 
your  thoughts  from  the  devastations  of  the  late  earthquake, 
is  the  last  imiiversal  destruction  of  ow  world  at  the  final  judg- 
ment. Of  this,  an  earthquake  is  but  a  confirmation  to 
human  reason,  and  a  lively  representation. 

It  is  a  confirmation  even  to  human  reason,  drawn  from 
the  constitution  of  our  globe,  that  such  a  destruction  is 
possible,  and  even  probable,  according  to  the  course  of 
nature.  Our  globe  is  stored  with  subterranean  magazines 
of  combustible  materials,  which  need  but  a  spark  to  pro- 
duce a  violent  explosion,  and  rend  and  burst  it  to  pieces. 
What  huge  quantities  of  these  sulphurous  and  nitrous 
mines  must  there  be,  when  one  discharge  can  spread  a 
tremor  over  half  the  world,  bury  islands  and  cities,  and 
shatter  wide  extended  continents !  What  an  inexhaustible 
store  of  fire  and  brimstone  has  supplied  ^tna,  Vesuvius, 
and  other  burning  mountains,  that  have  been  belching  out 
torrents  of  liquid  fire  for  some  thousands  of  years,  and 
now  rage  as  furiously  as  ever  ?  We  may  conjecture  from 
the  construction  of  our  world  that  it  was  not  intended  for 
a  perpetual  existence,  in  its  present  form,  but  to  be  dis- 
solved by  the  dreadful  element  of  fire.  And  revelation 
assures  us  of  this  universal  desolation,  when  the  "  heavens 
shall  be  shrivelled  up  like  a  parched  scroll,  and  pass  away 
with  a  great  noise,  and  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent 
heat ;  the  earth  also,  and  the  things  that  are  therein,  shall 
be  burnt  up." 

An  earthquake  is  also  a  lively  representation  of  the  uni- 
versal ruins  of  that  day,  and  the  horror  and  consternation 


880  THE   KELIGIOUS   IMPKOVEMENT 

of  mankind.  Let  imagination  form  a  lively  idea  of  the 
destruction  of  Lisbon — the  ground  trembling  and  heaving, 
and  roaring  with  subterranean  thunders — towers,  palaces, 
and  churches  tottering  and  falling — the  flames  bursting 
from  the  ruins  and  setting  all  in  a  blaze — the  sea  roaring 
and  rushing  over  its  banks,  with  resistless  impetuosity — 
the  inhabitants  running  from  place  to  place  in  wild  con- 
sternation, in  search  of  safety — flying  to  the  strongest 
buildings  for  shelter,  but  crushed  in  their  ruins  ;  or  to  the 
sea,  and  there  swept  away  by  the  rushing  waves.  Can 
human  imagination  represent  any  thing  more  shocking? 

Such,  my  brethren,  but  infinitely  more  dreadfal,  will  be 
the  terrors  of  that  last,  that  universal  earthquake,  which  we 
shall  all  see.  Stars  drop,  rush  lawless  through  the  air,  and 
dash  one  another  to  pieces.  The  sun  is  extinguished  and 
looks  like  a  huge  globe  of  solid  darkness.  The  moon  is 
turned  into  blood  and  reflects  a  portentous  sanguinary 
light  upon  the  earth.  The  clouds  flash  and  blaze  with 
sheets  of  lightning,  and  are  rent  with  the  horrid  crash  of 
thunder.  This  is  echoed  back  by  the  subterranean  thun- 
ders that  murmur,  rumble,  and  roar  under  ground.  The 
earth  is  tossed  like  a  ball,  and  bursts  asunder  like  a 
mouldering  clod.  See  the  works  of  nature  and  art  perish- 
ing in  one  promiscuous  ruin  ! — Mountains  sinking  and 
bursting  into  so  many  volcanoes,  vomiting  up  seas  of 
liquid  fire! — Pyramids,  towers,  palaces,  cities,  woods,  and 
plains,  burning  in  one  prodigious  undistinguishing  blaze  ! 
the  seas  evaporating  and  vanishing  away  through  the  in- 
tenseness  of  the  heat ! 

"  See  all  the  formidable  sons  of  fire, 
Eruptions,  earthquakes,  comets,  lightnings,  play 
Their  various  engines  ;  all  at  once  disgorge 
Their  blazing  magazines,  and  take  by  storm 
This  poor  terrestrial  citadel  of  man.  ' 

Amazing  period  !  when  each  mountain-top 
Out-burns  Vesuvius,  rocks  eternal  pour 
Their  melted  mass,  as  rivers  once  they  pour'd ; 
Stars  rush  ;  and  final  ruin  fiercely  drives 
Her  ploughshare  o'er  creation 


I  see  !  I  feel  it ! 


All  nature,  like  an  earthquake,  trembling  round  ! 
All  deities,  like  summer's  swarms,  on  wing  ! 
I  see  tlie  Judge  enthroned  !  the  flaming  guard  ! 
The  volume  opeu'd  !  open'd  every  heart ! 
A  sunbeam  pointing  out  each  secret  thought ! 
No  patron  !  interccdsor  none !  now  past 


OF   THE   LATE   EARTHQUAKE.  881 

The  sweet,  the  clement,  mediatorial  hour! 

For  guilt  no  plea  !  to  pain,  no  pause,  no  bound  ! 

Inexorable,  all !  and  all,  extreme  !" 

And  where,  ye  hardy  presumptuous  sinners  that  can 
now  despise  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  oh !  where  will  ye 
appear  in  this  tremendous  day  ?  What  shall  support  you 
when  the  ground  on  which  you  stood  is  gone?  What 
rock  or  mountain  shall  you  procure  to  shelter  you  when 
rocks  and  mountains  are  sinking  and  disappearing,  or 
melting  away  like  snow  before  the  sun?  How  can  you 
expect  to  escape  hell  when  the  earth  itself  is  turned  into 
a  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone  ?  Oh  !  how  can  you  bear  the 
thought  of  rolhng  and  weltering  there  ?  What  is  now 
become  of  your  lands  and  possessions  on  which  you  once 
set  your  hearts  ?  Nay,  where  is  the  country,  where  the 
continent,  in  which  you  once  dwelt  ? 

And  is  there  no  safety  in  this  wreck  of  nature  ?  Are 
all  mankind  involved  in  this  general  ruin?  No  ;  blessed 
be  God,  there  are  some  who  shall  be  safe  and  unhurt 
while  the  frame  of  nature  is  dissolving  around  them. 
Those  happy  souls  who  choose  the  Lord  for  their  portion, 
and  Jesus  for  their  Saviour,  and  who  in  this  tottering 
world  looked  for  a  city  that  has  foundations,  firm,  un- 
shaken foundations,  they  shall  be  safe  beyond  the  reach 
of  this  general  desolation — their  happiness  lies  secure  in  a 
"  kingdom  that  cannot  he  moved  J  ^  There  is  a  new  heaven 
and  a  new  earth  prepared  for  them. 

Then,  my  brethren,  you  will  see  the  advantage  of  that 
despised,  neglected  thing,  religion,  and  the  difference  be- 
tween the  righteous  and^  the  wicked ;  between  him  that 
serveth  G-od,  and  him  that  serveth  him  not.  Then  those 
that  are  now  so  unfashionable  as  to  make  religion  a  serious 
business,  w411  smile  secure  at  a  dissolving  world.  Then 
they  will  find  the  happy  fruits  of  those  hours  they  spent 
on  their  knees  at  the  throne  of  grace^-of  those  cries  and 
tears  they  poured  out  after  Jesus — of  their  honest  struggles 
with  sin  and  temptation,  and,  in  short,  of  a  life  devoted  to 
God.' 

Therefore,  let  such  of  you  rejoice  in  the  prospect  of  that 
glorious,  dreadful  day,  and  let  it  be  more  and  more  your 
serious  business  to  prepare  for  it.  You  shall  rest  for  ever 
in  a  country  that  shall  never  be  shaken  with  earthquakes, 
nor  be  subject  to   any  of  the  calamities  of  this  mortal 


382  THE   RELIGIOUS   IMPROVEMENT 

Btate.  Therefore,  since  this  shall  be  your  portion,  be  not 
much  disturbed  with  any  of  the  judgments  that  may 
befall  this  land  of  your  pilgrimage  and  exile.  The  sooner 
it  is  destroyed,  the  sooner  will  you  get  home  to  the  region 
of  eternal  rest.  Borrow  the  language  of  the  triumphant 
Psalmist:  "We  will  not  fear,  though  the  earth  be  re- 
moved; and  though  the  mountains  be  carried  into  the 
midst  of  the  sea.  Though  the  waters  thereof  roar,  and  be 
troubled ;  though  the  mountains  shake  with  the  swelling 
thereof" 

But  oh !  where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear  ? 

0  where  shall  some  of  you,  my  dear  people,  appear  in  that 
dreadful  day?  I  am  jealous  over  you  with  a  godly 
jealousy,  and  am  really  afraid  of  some  of  you.  Do  you 
not  know  in  your  consciences  that  you  are  generally 
thoughtless  and  careless  about  the  great  concerns  of  your 
eternal  state  ?  Your  hearts  have  never  been  thoroughly 
changed  by  divine  grace ;  nor  do  you  know  by  experience 
what  it  is  to  believe,  to  repent,  and  to  love  God  with  all 
your  hearts.     You  do  not  make  conscience  of  every  duty ; 

1  mean,  you  neglect  the  worship  of  God  in  your  families, 
though  under  the  strongest  obligations  to  perform  it,  per- 
haps from  your  own  solemn  vows  and  promises.  You 
indulge  yourselves  in  some  known  sin  or  other ;  and  if 
you  feel  some  pangs  of  repentance,  your  repentance  does 
not  issue  in  reformation.  Alas !  is  this  the  character  of 
one  soul  within  the  hearing  of  my  voice  ?  Then  I  must 
tell  you  that  if  you  continue  such,  you  will  be  fuel  for  the 
last  universal  fire,  and  must  perish  in  the  ruins  of  the 
world  you  have  loved  so  well. 

But  who  knows  but  that  if  you  begin  immediately  you 
may  yet  have  time  enough  to  work  out  your  own  salva- 
tion ?  Therefore  now  begin  the  work.  There  is  no  safety 
but  in  Jesus  Christ.  Away  to  him,  therefore ;  let  me  lay 
the  hand  of  friendly  violence  upon  you  and  hurry  you  out 
of  your  present  condition,  for  the  Lord  will  destroy  all 
that  continue  in  it;  "  escape  for  thy  life — look  not  behind 
thee ;  escape  to  Jesus  Christ,  lest  thou  be  consumed." 

I  must  tell  you  frankly,  I  studied  this  part  of  my  dis- 
course with  an  anxious  heart;  "'For,"  thought  I,  "I  have 
given  such  exhortations  over  and  over,  but  they  seem  gen- 
erally in  vain.  There  is  indeed  a  happy  number  among 
my  hearers,  who,  I  doubt  not,  have  regarded  the  gospel 


OF   THE   LATE   EARTHQUAKE.  883 

preached  Joj  my  lips.  But,  alas !  as  to  the  rest,  I  have 
been  so  often  disappointed  that  I  now  hardly  hope  to  suc- 
ceed." These  are  my  discouragements  in  my  retirements, 
when  no  eye  sees  me  but  Grod.  And  oh !  sinners,  will 
your  future  conduct  prove  there  was  good  reason  for  my 
fears  ?  Alas !  is  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  a  useless  in- 
stitution with  regard  to  you  ?  Will  you  resist  my  benevo- 
lent hand,  when  I  would  stretch  it  forth  to  pluck  you  out 
of  the  burning?  "Well,  my  friends,  I  cannot  help  it.  If 
you  will  perish — if  you  are  obstinately  set  upon  it,  I  have 
only  this  to  say,  that  your  poor  minister  will  weep  in  se- 
cret for  you,  and  drop  his  tears  upon  you,  as  you  are  fall- 
ing into  ruin  from  between  his  hands. 

Yes,  sinners,  God  forbid  that  I  should  cease  to  pray  for 
you  and  pity  you.  While  my  tongue  is  capable  of  pro- 
nouncing a  word,  and  you  think  it  worth  your  while  to 
hear  me,  I  will  send  the  calls  of  the  gospel  after  you ; 
and  if  you  perish  after  all,  you  shall  drop  into  hell  with 
the  offers  of  heaven  in  your  ears.  Fain  would  I  clear  my- 
self, and  say,  "  Your  blood  be  upon  your  own  heads ;  I  am 
clean."  But,  alas !  my  heart  recoils  and  fails.  I  have  no 
doubt  at  all  but  the  gospel  I  have  preached  to  you  is  indeed 
the  gospel  of  Christ,  and  I  cheerfully  venture  my  own  soul 
upon  it.  But  in  dispensing  it  among  you,  I  am  conscious 
of  so  much  weakness,  coldness,  and  unskillfulness,  that  I 
am  at  times  shocked  at  myself,  lest  I  should  be  accessory 
to  your  ruin.  However,  this  is  certain,  great  guilt  will 
fall  someivhere.  I  desire  to  take  my  own  share  of  shame 
and  guilt  upon  myself,  and  to  humble  myself  for  it  before 
God.  And  I  pray  you  do  the  same.  Oh,  humble  yourselves 
before  God  for  your  past  conduct,  and  prepare,  prepare  to 
meet  him  in  the  midst  of  a  burning  world. 

Or,  if  you  continue  obstinately  impenitent  still,  prepare 
to  make  your  defence  against  your  poor  minister  there, 
when  he  will  be  obliged  to  appear  as  a  swift  witness 
against  you,  and  say,  "  Lord,  I  can  appeal  to  thyself,  that  I 
warned  them  to  prepare  for  this  day,  though  with  so  many 
guilty  infirmities  as  nothing  but  thy  mercy  can  forgive. 
But  they  would  not  regard  my  warnings,  though  given  in 
thine  awful  name,  and  sometimes  enforced  with  my  own 
compassionate  tears."  There,  sirs,  at  the  supreme  tribunal, 
prepare  to  meet  me ;  and  thither  I  dare  appeal  for  the  truth 
and  importance  of  the  things  I  have  inculcated  upon  you. 


384  A  HYMN. 

A  HYMN. 

BY   THE   AUTHOR   OF   THE   PRECEDING    DISCOURSE. 

1.  How  great,  how  terrible  that  God, 
Who  shakes  creation  with  his  nod ! 

He  frowns,  and  earth's  foundations  quake, 
And  all  the  wheels  of  nature  break. 

2.  Crush'd  under  guilt's  oppressive  weight. 
This  globe  now  totters  to  its  fate  ; 
Trembles  beneath  her  guilty  sons. 

And  for  deliv'rance  heaves  and  groans  ! 

3.  And  see !  the  glorious,  dreadful  day, 
That  takes  th'  enormous  load  away  ! 
See  skies,  and  stars,  and  earth,  and  seas, 
Sink  in  one  universal  blaze  ! 

4.  Where  now,  ah  !  where  shall  sinners  seek 
For  shelter  in  the  general  wreck  ? 

Can  falling  rocks  conceal  them  now, 
When  rocks  dissolve  like  melting  snow  J 

6.  In  vain  for  pity  now  they  fly ; 
In  lakes  of  liquid  fire  they  lie 
There  on  the  burning  billows  toss'd, 
For  ever,  ever,  ever  lost ! 

6.  But  saints,  undaunted  and  serene, 

Your  eyes  shall  view  the  dreadful  scene ! 
Your  Saviour  lives,  though  worlds  expire. 
And  earth  and  skies  dissolve  in  fire  ! 

7.  Jesus  !  the  helpless  creature's  friend  ! 
To  thee  my  aU  I  dare  commend ; 
Thou  canst  preserve  my  feeble  soul, 
When  lightnings  blaze  from  pole  to  pole  ! 


EXTRACTS  FROM  A   SERMON 

PREACHED  AT  NASSAU  HALL,  PRINCETON,  MAY  28,  ll6l. 

OCCASIONED  BY  THE  DEATH  OF  THE 

REV.  SAMUEL   DAVIES,  A.M., 

LATE  TRESIDENT  OF  THE  COLLEGE  OF  NEW  JERSEY, 

BY    SAMUEL    FINLEY,    D.  D., 

PRESIDENT    OF    SAID    COLLEGE. 


"  For  none  of  us  livetli  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself.  For  wheth- 
er we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord  ;  or  whether  we  die,  we  die  unto  the 
Lord ;  whether  we  live,  therefore,  or  die,  we  arc  the  Lord's." — Rom.  xiv. 

7,8. 

As  the  very  clear  and  reverend  man,  whose  premature 
and  unexpected  death  we,  amongst  thousands,  this  day 
lament,  expressed  his  desire  that  upon  this  mournful  event 
a  sermon  should  be  preached  from  these  words,  he  plainly 
intimated  his  expectation  that  the  audience  should  be  en- 
tertained, not  with  an  ornamented  funeral  oration,  but 
with  such  an  instructive  discourse  as  the  text  itself  natu- 
rally suggests.  The  subject  being  his  own  choice,  I  cannot 
doubt  but  this  friendly  audience  will  the  more  closely  and 
seriously  attend,  as  conceiving  him,  though  dead,  yet  speak- 
ing to  them  the  solemn  truths  it  contains.  For  having 
been  admitted  into  the  full  knowledge  of  his  religious 
principles,  I  may  presume  on  speaking  many  of  the  senti- 
ments he  intended  from  this  text,  though  not  in  his  more 
sublime  and  oratorical  manner. 

When  I  reflect  on  the  truly  Christian,  generous,  yet 
strict  Catholicism  that  distinguishes  this  whole  chapter,  and 
how  deeply  it  was  imprinted  on  Mr.  Davies'  own  spirit, 
and  influenced  the  course  of  his  life,  I  am  ready  to  con- 


386  A   FUNERAL   SERMON 

elude  that  perhaps  no  text  could  be  more  aptly  chosen  on 
the  occasion.  It  expresses  the  very  temper  that  should  be 
predominant  in  all,  and  which  actually  is  so  in  every  pious 
breast. 

Thus,  while  our, text  affords  a  convincing  argument  for 
moderation  in  judging  of  other  Christians,  who  differ  from 
us  in  circumstantials,  it  teaches  us  what  should  be  the 
principle  and  end  of  our  life,  and  that  both  negatively  and 
positively.  We  may  not  live  nor  die  to  ourselves,  but  to 
the  Lord. 

I.  "  We  may  not  live  to  ourselves." 

This  proposition  supposes  what  is  a  demonstrable  truth, 
that  we  are  not  the  absolute  proprietors,  and  therefore  have 
not  the  rightful  disposal,  of  our  lives.  For  since  we  could 
exert  no  kind  of  ef&ciency  in  bringing  ourselves  from 
nothing  into  existence,  we  could  not  possibly  design  our- 
selves for  any  end  or  purpose  of  our  own.  Hence  it  is  evi- 
dent, that  whose  property  soever  we  are,  we  belong  not  to 
ourselves ;  consequently,  it  is  the  highest  indecency  to  be- 
have as  though  we  were  accountable  to  none  other.  We 
are  not  at  liberty,  nor  have  we  any  authority  to  employ 
either  the  members  of  our  bodies  or  the  powers  of  our  souls 
at  pleasure,  as  if  we  had  originally  designed  their  use. 

Since  we  were  not  the  authors  of  our  lives,  we  can  have 
no  right  to  take  them  away.  We  have  no  power  to  deter- 
mine either  the  time  or  kind  of  death,  any  more  than  we 
can  ward  off  or  suspend  its  blow,  when  commissioned  to 
destroy.  Therefore,  amidst  all  the  miseries  that  can  make 
life  an  unsupportable  burden,  and  the  glorious  prospects 
that  can  make  us  impatiently  pant  for  dissolution,  it  must 
be  our  determinate  purpose  that  "  all  the  days  of  our  ap- 
pointed time  we  will  wait  till  our  change  come." 

Keflecting  further  upon  the  preceding  observations,  they 
force  upon  us  the  disagreeable  conviction  that  our  whole 
race  has  revolted  from  the  race  of  Grod,  and  risen  up  in  rebel- 
lion against  him.  "  The  world  evidently  lies  in  wickedness ;" 
for  the  allowed  practice  of  men  supposes  principles  which  they 
themselves,  being  judges,  must  confess  to  be  palpably  false 
and  absurd.  They  act  as  if  they  believe  they  were  made 
for  themselves,  and  had  no  other  business  in  life  but  the 
gratification  of  their  respective  humors.  One  exerts  all  his 
powers  and  spends  all  his  time  in  nothing  else  but  endeavor- 
ing to  amass  heaps  of  worldly  treasure ;  another  by  riotous 


ON   THE   DEATH   OF   MR.  DAVIES.  387 

living  disperses  wliat  had  been  collected  with  anxious  care. 
Some  live  in  malice  and  envy,  whose  favorite  employ  is 
calumny  and  wrathful  contentions,  as  if  they  had  been 
created  for  no  other  end  but  to  be  the  pests  of  society ; 
others  blaspheme  the  name  of  God,  despise  his  authority, 
mock  at  religion,  and  ridicule  serious  persons  and  things. 
One  has  no  other  purpose  in  life  but  sport  and  merriment ; 
another  eats  to  gluttony  and  drinks  to  besottedness.  Yet  all 
these  and  nameless  ranks  of  other  daring  offenders  would 
be  ashamed  in  a  Christian  country  to  profess  it  as  their 
serious  belief  that  that  they  were  made  by  a  most  wise, 
holy,  and  righteous  God,  preserved,  blessed,  and  loaded 
with  benefits  every  day,  on  purpose  that  they  "  might 
work  all  these  abominations,"  or  in  order  to  live  just  as 
they  do. 

If,  then,  it  is  confessedly  impious  and  unreasonable  to 
live  to  ourselves,  it  necessarily  follows  that  we  are  the  prop- 
erty of  another,  for  it  will  ever  be  "  lawful  for  one  to  do 
what  he  will  with  his  own."  And  whose  can  we  be  but 
his  who  gave  us  existence  ?  Or,  if  ties  of  gratitude  can 
more  powerfully  influence  ingenuous  minds  than  even 
those  of  nature,  who  can  so  justly  claim  us  as  He  "who, 
as  we  hope,  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his 
own  blood?"     This  leads  me  to  observe,  i- 

II.  That  we  should  "  live  and  die  to  the  Lord."  This 
can  admit  of  no  debate  ;  for  if  our  Maker  and  Kedeemer  be 
our  rightful  owner,  then,  whatever  we  are,  or  have,  or  can 
do,  must  be  for  him.  We  must  "  present  our  bodies  a  liv- 
ing sacrifice,"  without  reserve  or  hesitation ;  and  avouch 
the  Lord  to  be  our  God,  to  "walk  in  his  ways,  and  to  keep 
his  statutes,  and  judgments,  and  commandments,  and  to 
hearken  to  his  voice." 

Now  to  live  wholly  to  the  Lord  will  appear  to  be  our 
reasonable  service  if  we  consider, 

First,  That  such  a  life  is  most  worthy  of  rational  and 
immortal  creatures. 

Secondly,  Such  a  life  is  most  worthy  of  God  our  Maker. 

Thirdly,  Such  a  life  is  our  own  happiness ;  for,  acting  as 
prescribed,  we  move  in  our  proper  sphere,  and  tend  to  our 
native  centre.  We  live  as  near  the  fountain  of  blessedness 
as  our  present  state  can  admit,  and  nothing  can  be  so  ani- 
mating as  the  glorious  and  blissful  prospects  our  course 
affords.     Our  hearts  being  fixed  on  the  diief  good,  are  at 


388  A   FUNERAL  SERMON 

rest,  and  no  more  tortured  with  anxious  hesitation  and  un- 
easy suspense  as  to  what  we  shall  choose  for  our  portion, 
nor  do  our  desires  wander  in  quest  of  a  more  suitable 
object.  We  can  wish  for  no  more  but  the  full  enjoyment 
of  God,  whom  we  serve  "  with  our  spirits ;"  "  whose  peace, 
that  passeth  understanding,  rules  in  our  hearts,"  and  for 
whose  glory  we  hope,  secure  from  confounding  disappoint- 
ment in  the  day  of  the  Lord. 

Now,  methinks,  every  attentive  hearer  prevents  my  im- 
provement of  the  subject,  being  ready  of  his  own  accord  to 
make  such  reflections  as  these : — How  serene  and  placid  is 
the  life,  and  how  triumphant  must  be  the  death  of  a  true 
Christian !  How  reasonable  a  service  do  we  perform,  -when 
we  consecrate  ourselves  to  the  Lord,  and  receive  him,  freely 
offering  himself  to  be  our  portion,  our  Father,  and  our 
Friend !  None  can  plausibly  urge  that  some  things  unfit  or 
detrimental  are  required.  None  can  pretend  a  conscien- 
tious scruple  about  complying  with  the  proposal,  nor  dare 
any,  however  secretly  reluctant,  openly  avow  their  dissent. 
Every  mouth  is  stopped,  and  all  acknowledge  their  obliga- 
tion to  this  plain  duty.  AVhat,  then,  should  hinder  the 
unanimous  agreement  of  this  whole  assembly  to  so  advan- 
tageous an  overture  ?  Why  may  we  not  join  ourselves 
this  day  to  the  Lord  in  an  everlasting  covenant  ?  Would 
it  not  seem  uncharitable  to  suppose  that  any  one  in  this 
Christian  audience  rejects  a  proposal  so  infinitely  just  and 
kind?  How  pleasing  is  the  very  imagination  of  a  universal 
concurrence !  Not  only  would  each  of  our  hearts  who  are 
here  present  exult,  but  unnumbered  hosts  of  angels  and  all 
"the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect"  would  rejoice. 

Since,  therefore,  all  things  that'  pertain  to  our  present 
or  future  happiness  conspire  to  urge  this  point,  let  us  with 
one  accord,  in  the  most  affectionate  and  reverent  manner, 
approach  the  throne  of  our  august  Sovereign,  and  cheer- 
fully resign  ourselves  to  him  for  ever,  spend  our  lives  in 
his  service,  and  expect  his  approbation  at  our  end. 

In  some  such  strain,  but  more  diffusive  and  sublime, 
would  our  reverend  and  dear  deceased  friend  have  ad- 
dressed us  on  such  a  subject.  We  may  imagine  how  fer- 
vent his  desire  was  of  "living  to  the  Lord"  himself,  and 
persuading  others  to  the  same  course,  when  he  fixed  on 
this  for  the  subject  of  his  funeral  sermon.  Now,  as  it  is 
generally  agreed  that  example  has  the  most  powerful  in- 


ON   THE   DEATH   OF   MR.  DAVIES^  889 

fluence,  perhaps  a  few  sketches  of  his  own  life  and  char- 
acter may  best  recommend  the  preceding  discourse,  as  they 
will  prove  the  life  described  to  be  practicable. 

President  Davies  was  an  only  son,  and,  what  is  more, 
was  a  son  of  prayers  and  vows ;  was  given  in  answer  to 
fervent  supplications,  and,  in  gratitude,  wholly  devoted  to 
God  from  earliest  infancy  by  his  eminently  pious  mother, 
and  named  Samuel,  on  the  like  occasion  as  the  ancient 
prophet.  The  event  proved  that  God  accepted  the  conse- 
crated boy,  took  him  under  his  special  care,  furnished  him 
for,  and  employed  him  in  the  service  of  his  church,  pros- 
pered his  labors  with  remarkable  success,  and  not  only 
blessed  him,  but  made  himself  a  blessing. 

The  first  twelve  years  of  his  life  were  wasted  in  the 
most  entire  negligence  of  God  and  religion,  which  he  often 
afterwards  bitterly  lamented,  as  having  "  too  long  wrought 
the  will  of  the  flesh."  But  about  that  time,  the  God  to 
whom  he  was  dedicated,  by  his  word  and  spirit  awakened 
him  to  solemn  thoughtfulness  and  anxious  concern  about 
his  eternal  state.  He  then  saw  sufficient  reason  to  dread 
all  the  direful  effects  of  divine  displeasure  against  sin. 
And  so  deeply  imprinted  was  the  rational  sense  of  danger, 
as  to  make  him  habitually  uneasy  and  restless  until  he 
might  obtain  satisfying  scriptural  evidence  of  his  interest 
in  the  forgiving  love  of  God. 

While  thus  exercised,  he  clearly  saw  the  absolute  neces- 
sity and  certain  reality  of  the  gospel  plan  of  salvation, 
and  what  abundant  and  suitable  provision  it  makes  for  all 
the  wants  of  a  sinner.  JSTo  other  solid  ground  of  hope  or 
unfailing  source  of  comfort  could  he  find  besides  the  merits 
and  righteousness  of  him  "whom  God  sent  forth  to  be 
a  propitiation  for  sin,  through  faith  in  his  blood."  On 
this  righteousness  he  was  enabled  confidently  to  depend ; 
by  this  blood  his  conscience  was  purged  from  guilt,  and 
"believing  he  rejoiced  with  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of 
glory."  Yet  he  was  afterwards  exercised  with  many  per- 
plexing doubts  for  a  long  season,  but  at  length,  after  years 
of  impartial  repeated  self-examination,  he  attained  to  a 
settled  confidence  of  his  interest  in  redeeming  grace,  which 
he  retained  to  the  end. 

A  diary,  which  he  kept  in  the  first  years  of  his  religious 
life,  and  continued  to  keep  as  long  as  his  leisure  would 
permit,  clearly  shows  how  intensely  his  mind  was  set  on 

33* 


390  A   FUNERAL   SERMON 

heavenly  things ;  how  observant  he  was  of  the  temper  of 
his  heart,  and  how  watchful  over  all  his  thoughts, 
words,  and  actions.  His  love  to  God  and  tender  concern 
for  perishing  sinners  excited  his  earnest  desire  of  being 
in  a  situation  to  serve  mankind  to  the  best  advantage. 
With  this  view  he  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  learning,  in 
which,  amidst  many  obvious  inconveniences,  he  made  sur- 
prising progress,  and,  sooner  than  could  have  been  ex- 
pected, was  found  competently  qualified  for  the  ministerial 
office.  He  passed  the  usual  previous  trials  with  uncom- 
mon approbation,  having  exceeded  the  raised  expectations 
of  his  most  intimate  friends  and  admirers. 

When  he  was  licensed  to  preach  the  gospel,  he  zealously 
declared  the  counsel  of  God,  the  truth  and  importance  of 
which  he  knew  by  experience,  and  did  it  in  such  a  manner 
as  excited  the  earnest  desires  of  every  vacant  congrega- 
tion where  he  was  known,  to  obtain  the  happiness  of  his 
stated  ministrations.  But,  far  from  gratifying  his  natural 
inclination  to  the  society  of  his  friends,  or  consulting  his 
ease,  moved  by  conscience  of  duty,  he  undertook  the  self- 
denying  charge  of  a  dissenting  congregation  in  Virginia, 
separated  from  all  his  brethren,  and  exposed  to  the  censure 
and  resentment  of  many. 

Nor  did  he  there  labor  in  vain,  or  "spend  his  strength 
for  naught."  The  "  Lord,  who  counted  him  faithful, 
putting  him  into  the  ministry,"  succeeded  his  faithful  en- 
deavors, so  that  a  great  number,  both  of  whites  and  blacks ^ 
were  hopefully  converted  to  the  living  God. 

As  to  his  natural  genius,  it  was  strong  and  masculine. 
His  understanding  was  clear ;  his  memory  retentive  ;  his 
invention  quick ;  his  imagination  lively  and  florid ;  his 
thoughts  sublime,  and  his  language  elegant,  strong,  and 
expressive. 

His  appearance  in  company  was  manly  and  graceful ; 
his  behavior  genteel,  not  ceremonious;  grave,  yet  pleasant ; 
and  solid,  but  sprightly  too. 

In  the  sacred  desk,  zeal  for  God  and  love  to  men  ani- 
mated his  addresses,  and  made  them  tender,  solemn,  pun- 
gent, and  persuasive ;  while  at  the  same  time  they  were 
ingenious,  accurate,  and  oratorical.  A  certain  dignity  of 
sentiment  and  style,  a  venerable  presence,  a  commanding 
voice,  and  emphatical  delivery,  concurred  both  to  charm 
his  audience  and  overawe  them  into  silence  and  attention. 


ON   THE   DEATH   OF   MR.   DAVIES.  391 

Nor  was  his  usefulness  confined  to  tlie  pulpit.  His  com- 
prehensive mind  could  take  under  view  the  grand  interests 
of  his  country  and  of  religion  at  once ;  and  these  interests, 
as  well  as  those  of  his  friends,  he  was  ever  ready  zealously 
to  serve. 

His  natural  temper  was  remarkably  sweet  and  dispas- 
sionate, and  his  heart  was  one  of  the  tenderest  towards  the 
distressed.  His  sympathetic  soul  could  say,  "  Who  is 
weak,  and  I  am  not  weak  ?"  Accordingly,  his  charitable 
disposition  made  him  liberal  to  the  poor,  and  that  often 
beyond  his  ability. 

To  his  friend  he  was  voluntarily  transparent.  And  per- 
haps none  better  understood  the  ingenuities  and  delicacies 
of  friendship,  or  had  a  higher  relish  for  it,  or  was  truer  or 
more  constant  in  it  than  he.  He  was  not  easily  disgusted ; 
his  knowledge  of  human  nature  in  its  present  state,  his 
candid  heart  and  enlarged  soul  both  disposing  and  ena- 
bling him  to  make  allowances  for  indiscretions  which  nar- 
rower and  more  selfish  minds  could  not  make.  He  readily 
and  easily  forgave  offences  against  himself,  whilst  none 
could  be  more  careful  to  avoid  offending  others ;  which,  if 
he  at  any  time  inadvertently  did,  he  was  forward  and 
desirous  to  make  the  most  ample  satisfaction.  It  would 
hardly  be  expected  that  one  so  rigid  with  respect  to  his 
own  faith  and  practice  could  be  so  generous  and  catholic 
in  his  sentiments  of  those  who  differed  from  him  in  both, 
as  he  was.  He  was  strict,  not  bigoted ;  conscientious,  not 
squeamishly  scrupulous.  His  clear  and  extensive  knowl- 
edge of  religion  enabled  him  to  discern  where  the  main 
stress  should  be  laid,  and  to  proportion  his  zeal  to  the  im- 
portance of  things,  too  generous  to  be  confined  to  the 
interests  of  a  party  as  such.  He  considered  the  visible 
kingdom  of  Christ  as  extended  beyond  the  boundaries  of 
this  or  that  particular  denomination,  and  never  supposed 
that  his  declarative  glory  was  wholly  dependent  on  the 
religions  which  he  most  approved.  Hence  he  gloried  more 
in  being  a  Christian  than  in  being  a  Presbyterian^  though 
he  was  the  latter  from  principle. 

He  sought  truth  for  its  own  sake,  and  would  profess  his 
sentiments  with  the  undisguised  openness  of  an  honest 
Christian,  and  the  inoffensive  boldness  of  a  manly  spirit ; 
yet,  without  the  least  apparent  difficulty  or  hesitation,  he 
would  retract  an  opinion  on  full  conviction  of  its  being  a 


392  '  A   FUNERAL   SERMON 

mistake.  I  have  never  known  one  who  appeared  to  lay 
himself  more  fully  open  to  the  reception  of  truth,  from 
whatever  source  it  came,  than  he ;  for  he  judged  the  knowl- 
edge of  truth  only  to  be  real  learning,  and  that  endeavor- 
ing to  defend  error  was  but  laboring  to  be  more  ignorant. 
But,  until  fully  convinced,  he  was  becomingly  tenacious 
of  his  opinion. 

The  unavoidable  consciousness  of  native  power  made 
him  bold  and  enterprising.  Yet  the  event  proved  that  his 
boldness  arose,  not  from  a  partial,  groundless  self-conceit, 
but  from  true  self-knowledge.  Upon  fair  and  candid  trial, 
faithful  and  just  to  himself,  he  judged  what  he  could  do; 
and  what  he  could  do,  when  called  to  it  he  attempted ; 
and  what  he  attempted,  he  accomplished. 

It  may  here  be  properly  observed,  that  he  was  chosen 
by  the  Synod  of  New  York,  at  the  instance  of  the  trustees 
of  New  Jersey  College,  as  a  fit  person  to  accompany  the 
Eev.  Mr.  Gilbert  Tennent  to  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  in 
order  to  solicit  benefactions  for  the  said  college.  As  this 
manifested  the  high  opinion  which  both  the  synod  and 
corporation  entertained  of  his  popular  talents  and  superior 
abilities,  so  his  ready  compliance  to  undertake  that  service, 
hazardous  and  difficult  in  itself,  and  precarious  in  its  con- 
sequences, which  required  him  to  overlook  his  domestic 
connections,  however  tender  and  endearing,  manifested 
his  resolution  and  self-denial.  How  well  he  was  qualified 
as  a  solicitor,  is  witnessed  by  the  numerous  and  large 
benefactions  he  received. 

As  his  light  shone,  his  abilities  to  fill  the  President's 
chair  in  this  college,  then  vacant,  was  not  doubted  by  the 
honorable  board  of  trustees.  He  was  accordingly  chosen, 
and  earnestly  invited  to  accept  the  charge  of  the  society. 
Yet  he  once  and  again  excused  himself,  not  being  con- 
vinced that  he  was  called  in  duty  to  leave  his  then  im- 
portant province.  But  repeated  application  at  length 
prevailed  to  make  him  apprehend  that  it  was  the  will  of 
God  he  should  accept  the  call ;  yet,  lest  he  should  mistake 
in  so  important  a  case,  he  withheld  his  express  consent 
until  the  reverend  Synod  of  New  York  and  Philadelphia 
gave  their  opinion  in  favor  of  the  college.  This  deter- 
mined his  dubious  mind.  He  came  and  undertook  the 
weighty  charge. 

His   manner   of  conducting  the  college  did   honor  to 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF   MR.   DAVIES.  893 

himself,  and  promoted  its  interests.  Whatever  alterations 
in  the  plans  of  education  he  introduced  were  confessedly 
improvements  on  those  of  his  predecessors.  Had  I  never 
had  other  means  of  intelligence,  save  only  my  knowledge 
of  the  man,  I  should  naturally  have  expected  that  all  his 
public  appearances  would  have  been  conducted  with 
spirit,  elegance,  and  decorum  ;  that  his  government  would 
be  mild  and  gentle,  tempered  with  wisdom  and  authority, 
and  calculated  to  command  reverence  while  it  attracted 
love,  and  that  his  manner  of  teaching  would  be  agreeable 
and  striking. 

But  I  propose  not  these  as  mere  conjectures.  The 
learned  tutors  of  the  college,  the  partners  of  his  counsels 
and  deliberations  for  its  good,  and  these  young  gentlemen, 
once  his  care  and  charge,  who  judged  themselves  happy 
under  his  tuition,  all  know  more  than  I  shall  speak. 

You  know  the  tenderness  and  condescension  with  which 
he  treated  you ;  the  paternal  care  with  which  he  watched 
over  you ;  the  reluctance  with  which  he  at  any  time  in- 
flicted the  prescribed  punishment  on  a  delinquent;  and 
how  pleased  he  was  to  succeed  in  reforming  any  abuse  by 
private  and  easy  methods.  But  his  persuasive  voice  you 
will  hear  no  more.  He  is  removed  far  from  mortals,  has 
taken  his  aerial  flight,  and  left  us  to  lament  that  "a  great 
man  has  fallen  in  Israel!"  He  lived  much  in  a  little 
time;  "he  finished  his  course,"  performed  sooner  than 
many  others  his  assigned  task,  and  in  that  view  might  be 
said  to  have  died  mature.  He  shone  like  a  light  set  on 
a  high  place,  that  burns  out  and  expires. 

He  went  through  every  stage  of  honor  and  usefulness 
compatible  to  his  character  as  a  dissenting  clergyman ;  and 
while  we  flattered  our  fond  hopes  of  eminent  services 
from  him  for  many  years  to  come,  the  fatal  blow  was 
struck ;  our  pleasing  prospects  are  all  at  an  end,  and  he  is 
cut  down  like  a  tree  that  has  yielded  much  fruit,  and  was 
laden  with  blossoms  even  in  its  fall. 

This  dispensation,  how  mysterious,  how  astonishing, 
nay,  how  discouraging  does  it  seem  !  Why  was  he  raised 
by  divine  Providence  in  the  prime  of  life  to  so  important 
a  station,  and  amidst  useful  labors,  while  he  was  fast  in- 
creasing in  strength  adapted  to  his  business,  quickly 
snatched  away  ?  This  is  a  perplexing  case,  and  the  more 
so  that  it  so  soon  vsucceeded  the  vet  shorter  continuance 


i94  A  FUNERAL   SERMON,    ETC. 


f  tlie  venerable  Edwards.  Were  they  set  in  so  con- 
spicuous a  point  of  view,  only  that  their  imitable  excel- 
lences might  be  more  observable?  or  was  Nassau-hall 
erected  by  divine  Providence  for  this  among  other  im- 
portant purposes,  that  it  might  serve  to  adorn  the  latter 
end  of  some  eminent  servants  of  the  living  Grod,  itself 
being  adorned  by  them  ?  In  this  view,  the  short  presi- 
dency of  a  Dickinson,  a  Burr,  an  Edwards,  and  a  Davies, 
instead  of  arguing  the  displeasure  of  the  Almighty  will 
evidence  his  peculiar  favor  to  this  institution,  which  I 
know  was  planned  and  has  been  carried  on  with  the  most 
pious,  benevolent,  and  generous  designs.  ISFow  one  more 
shining  orb  is  set  on  our  world.  Davies  is  departed,  and 
with  him  all  that  love,  zeal,  activity,  benevolence  for  which 
he  was  remarkable.  This  the  church,  and  this  the  be- 
reaved college  mourns.  For  this  we  hang  our  once  cheer- 
ful harps,  and  indulge  the  plaintive  strains.  Yet  we  are 
not  to  lament  as  those  who  are  hopeless,  but  rather  with 
humble  confidence  to  "  pray  the  Lord  of  the  harvest," 
with  whom  is  "the  residue  of  the  spirit,"  that  he  would 
send  forth  another  Davies  to  assist  our  labor  and  forward 
his  work. 

Nor  should  the  decease  of  useful  laborers,  the  extinc- 
tion of  burning  and  shining  lights,  only  send  us  to  the 
throne  of  grace  for  supplies,  but  excite  us  to  greater  dili- 
gence and  activity  in  our  business  as  we  have  for  the 
present  the  more  to  do. 

Finally,  This  dispensation  should  lessen  our  esteem 
of  this  transitory  disappointing  world  and  raise  our  affec- 
tions to  heaven,  that  place  and  state  of  permanent  blessed- 
ness. Thither  ascends,  as  to  its  native  home,  all  the 
goodness  that  departs  from  earth ;  and  the  more  of  our 
pious  friends  that  go  to  glory,  so  many  more  secondary 
motives  have  we  to  excite  our  desires  of  "  departing  and 
being  with  Christ,"  which  is  far  better  than  any  state 
under  the  sun ;  for  there  in  addition  to  superior  felicity, 
"  we  shall  come  to  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the 
first-born  who  are  written  in  heaven — and  to  the  spirits 
of  just  men  made  perfect." 


THE    END. 


DATE 

DUE 

GAYLORD 

PRINTED  INUSA 

